


Friendly Competition

by walkalittleline



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multiple Endings, everyone loves Caleb as they should
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-10-21 02:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 160,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: With his scholarship funds running low, Caleb decides to take his faculty advisor up on the offer to tutor other students to earn rent money, though he’s wholly unprepared for two of his students vying for his affections the entire semester.





	1. Chapter 1

_Mr. Widogast,_

_Please make yourself at home, the desk in the corner will be yours for the semester. Please let me know if you require any additional materials and forward me your tutoring schedule as soon as this is available so I may forward to the finance department. Thank you again for your willingness to step up and assist your fellow students, I look forward to working with you._

_-Prof A_

Caleb crumbles the note in his fist and stuffs it in his pocket as he twists open the doorknob to the office, poking his head inside the darkened room and wrinkling his nose at the musty smell. It’s a tiny room, smaller even than his bedroom in the little apartment he and Nott share.

There are two desks crammed up against the walls, though one is overflowing with stacks of filing boxes and loose papers, while the other looks hastily cleared, dust still lingering along some of the surfaces. There are no windows, which gives him the impression that it's really a hastily converted storage room. He flicks on the light and weaves his way between the two desks to squeeze behind the empty one, letting his messenger bag drop to the floor with a  _thud_  as he peers around the room. 

It  _is_ tiny, but he knows he can work with it, and the clutter doesn’t bother him, in fact, it feels much like his own bedroom, strewn with books and sheaves of paper and occasionally clothes he’s too exhausted to think about picking up at the end of the day. There’s space for his laptop and the desk chair looks soft and comfortable despite the layer of dust. It’s doable. 

He glances at his watch. Ten after nine. His first lecture isn’t until eleven that day— _Historical and Comparative Linguistics_ —and it would take fifteen minutes to get back to his apartment from the school. Sighing, he sets about getting the office in order rather than digging out his Linguistics book and reading a few chapters before class to prepare. He shifts some of the boxes to the corner and wipes down his desk, coughing at the cloud of dust that settles over the room as he cleans.

He boots up his laptop and connects to the ancient printer shoved under the desk and prints out a sign that reads  _Caleb Widogast Peer Tutoring: Biochemistry, History, and Linguistics_ along with his email address and office location for inquiries. He tacks it to the office door with a satisfied smile before printing out half a dozen more with the intention of posting them around campus after his morning lecture. Glancing at his watch, he realizes with a start that his first class is in fifteen minutes and hurries to gather his things, locking the office before jogging towards the exit.

The January air bites at his skin and he hitches his scarf up over his mouth and nose. There's snow dusting the ground, though it's not falling thick enough for any real accumulation, little flurries whipped around by the frigid wind blowing across the campus. By the time he reaches the hall containing the classroom--which is only across the street from the building housing his office--his fingers are half numb from the cold. He brushes snow from his hair and weaves his way through the few students ambling through the halls to make his way to the classroom.  

The room is already filling up when he gets there, settling at a seat in the middle of the room and tucking his bag under his desk after fishing out his laptop and textbook. He’s engrossed in the introduction when a wad of paper hits the side of his face and he turns with a bewildered look to see Beau grinning at him from two rows over.

“Beauregard,” he says, shutting his book. “I did not realize you would be in this class.”

“Picked it from the list,” Beau says with a shrug, tilting her chair back on two legs and eyeing a few newcomers. “Seemed like a pretty easy pass. Will be now for sure if you’re here,” she adds with a grin.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you as much this semester,” Caleb says, glossing over the fact that Beau picked Comparative Linguistics as an “easy pass”. “I was approached to do peer tutoring. I just finished setting up my office before I came.”

Beau’s chair drops back to the floor with a  _clunk_. 

“What?” she says, looking disgusted. “You’re  _tutoring_ people?  _Willingly_?”

“Yes,” Caleb says with a nod, “the school is offering a small stipend in exchange for several hours of tutoring each week. It’s fairly common practice.”

Beau groans and mimes vomiting.

“So you have to babysit a bunch of dumb ass freshman?” she says, grimacing. “Good luck, dude.” 

Caleb is about to tell her that he has no idea who will be signing up when the Professor arrives and the low rumble of chatter in the room quiets. He thinks it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway.

When he boots up his email later that evening, scratching Frumpkin under the chin and absently taking bites of the sandwich Nott had forced him to take, he feels a slight sink in his stomach when he sees nothing in his inbox about tutoring. While he admits he was not initially keen on the idea—he'd broken out in an anxious sweat the first time his advisor had floated it to him—he could desperately use the extra money. 

Even with his full scholarship to pay for his classes and books, he still has to come up with his half of the rent and the extra scholarships he'd managed to get to help pay the past two and a half years are nearly dried up. The final straw had been when Nott had raised the possibility of him getting a job with her at the seedy bar down the street where she worked evenings and weekends. He refuses to come home each night reeking of booze and risking the possibility of being stabbed in an alley.

"You know, I can cover the rent for a month or two while you find something," Nott says when he voices his concern over there being no response to his flyers yet. "I really don't mind. You know I don't spend my money on anything anyway." 

"And you know I cannot accept that," Caleb responds, sighing as he shuts his computer and scrubs his hands down his face.  

He's only known Nott since they begin rooming together at the start of the fall semester when Caleb had transferred schools and answered her add on online for a roommate, but she has already adopted almost a motherly treatment of him. She had ensured he'd eaten when he was shut in his room for almost a month straight before finals, kept him from going days without sleep, even forced him to spend time with his fellow students rather than allowing him to turn into a complete hermit. He refuses to return her kindness with freeloading just because no one wants him to tutor them. 

"I will have the money," he says. "Even if it means I have to work at the bar," he adds with a grimace.

It’s not until a full week later—when panic is truly starting to set in and he's begun weighing the cons of being stabbed versus those of being homeless—that he is approached about the signs he’s hung around campus. He’s in between classes, tapping away on his laptop working on an essay for his Organic Chemistry class when there’s a knock at the office door.

“Come in,” he calls, saving his document before closing his computer as he looks up at the new arrival, feeling his eyes widen automatically at the sight of the firbolg ducking his head into the room. 

“Are you... Caleb?” the firbolg says, glancing back at the sign on the door. His voice is slow and deep, oddly soothing even as Caleb can feel his stomach knot with anxiety. Why did he agree to do this again? 

“ _Ja_ , that’s me,” Caleb says. _“_ How can I help you, mister...”

“Clay. Caduceus Clay,” the firbolg says, smiling warmly. He’s at least seven feet tall, thin and lanky with pink hair swept to one side. He’s dressed in a blue and gray Baja jacket and a pair of gray harem pants and Caleb thinks he could probably taste the weed on him if he got a few steps closer.

“Mister Clay,” Caleb says, smiling stiffly. “How can I help you?”

“Well, I saw your sign,” Caduceus says, gesturing to the door. “Are you tutoring in all of those subjects? Or is there someone else?" 

"Just me," Caleb replies. "I double major in history and biochemistry but I'm minoring in linguistics so I can offer assistance in all three subjects if necessary." 

"Wow," Caduceus says, looking impressed. "You must be really smart."

Caleb clears his throat, feeling his cheeks turn pink. "Are you looking for tutoring then?"

"Oh, yeah," Caduceus says with a nod. "I guess I just wanted to ask how this all works first? Would I pay you? I could use some help but I don’t really have a lot of cash, so...”

“The program is through the school,” Caleb says, picking up where Caduceus has trailed off. “They would pay me directly, I have a limited number of hours per week I would tutor, but I’ve not had anyone else sign up yet so you are in luck. In what coursework are you needing tutoring?” He flips open his planner and looks up at Caduceus expectantly.

“Well,” Caduceus says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking abashed. “I have to take some chemistry classes for my major and I mostly get the science parts of it. But the math parts are just... way over my head.”

“Science and math are very closely linked,” Caleb says with a sympathetic nod. “What is your major, then? What year are you in?"

“Horticulture,” Caduceus says with another broad smile. "I'm a senior."

Caleb hums and jots down a note in his planner. “And are you looking for weekly sessions? Twice weekly?” 

“I suppose weekly,” Caduceus says with a thoughtful frown. “Are you doing the tutoring here?” 

“Wherever you find most comfortable,” Caleb says, setting down his pen. “As long as we do not leave campus. We can do it here, in the library, or, if you prefer, we can go to your dorm. I will review your current schedule and coursework to determine the area of focus as well as what time works best for us both. We will work through your coursework together to ensure you fully understand the method, then I will assign you work of my own for you to compete by our next meeting.”

"Wow," Caduceus says with a crooked smile, "You've really got it figured out, huh?"

Caleb feels himself flush again and clears his throat as he straightens in his seat.

"Are you interested then?" he says and folds his hands together on the desk, his fingers slick with sweat. 

"Yeah, for sure," Caduceus says, nodding. "So, I'll just email you my information and you can let me know, I guess?" 

"That would be fine," Caleb agrees. He pulls out a slip of paper and jots down his school email, hesitating before adding his cell number for good measure, before holding the paper out for Caduceus to take. He catches a whiff of earth and what he thinks might be incense as the firbolg leans forward to accept it.

Caduceus smiles down at the paper before slipping it in his pocket. 

"I look forward to your tutelage," he says. He raises a hand briefly in farewell before slipping out of the office and back into the hall, the door closing behind him with a click.

Caleb sits back in his seat and exhales as he looks up at the ceiling.

"That wasn't so bad," he mutters. 

A heavy sense of relief begins to settle over him at the prospect of having income that doesn't involve the possibility of getting mugged—or, at least, has a much lower possibility of it. He just needs to have a few more students sign up and he'll be making enough money to earn his half of the rent in addition to having a little extra money he can squirrel away for emergencies. 

He finishes typing out the paragraph he'd been working on, glancing at the clock in the corner of the screen, before shutting his computer and stuffing it in his bag along with his notes. Slipping on his coat, he's about to head to his next class when there's a rapid knock on the door, which swings open before he can respond.

A purple-skinned tiefling strides inside and Caleb has to blink a few times to make sure he's not imagining him. He's dressed in a long maroon coat patterned with multi-colored stars and suns over a fitted white shirt tucked into bright teal pants that hug his legs so tightly Caleb is vaguely concerned for his circulation. His horns are elaborately pierced, with gold chains and little baubles jangling from them with each movement, somehow not becoming entangled with his carefully coiffed hair. There's a tattoo of what looks to be peacock feathers down one side of his jaw and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. 

"Are you the tutor?" the tiefling says, sounding half bored, half annoyed, red eyes narrowing in mild disgust as they scan the room. His gaze falls on Caleb and his demeanor changes, posture straightening and a smile Caleb can only describe as wolfish curling up the corners of his lips. 

“Hello,” he says, voice suddenly half an octave lower and practically a purr. He takes steps closer to Caleb, his low-heeled boots clicking softly on the worn wooden floor. “So... _you’re_ the tutor?”

 

“ _Ja_ —Yes, that’s me,” Caleb says, brain finally catching up with him as he regains his mental footing. “How can I help you—“

“Mollymauk,” the tiefling says before he has a chance to finish, holding one hand out across the desk towards Caleb, who shakes it, noticing his fingernails are long and painted silver. “Tealeaf. Molly to my friends. But you can call me anything you’d like. And you are?”

“Caleb,” Caleb says, releasing his hand. “Widogast. Like it says on the door,” he adds, gesturing to the door still hanging open where his flyer is visible taped to the front. 

The tiefling’s wide grin falters briefly before returning full force as he laughs smoothly.

“Of course,” he says. He places his palms on the desk and leans towards Caleb over it. “Well, I am just _awful_  with history so I could really use your help if you’ve still go some, ah, slots I could fill.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Caleb says and pulls out a notebook, rummaging through his bag for a pen. “So, history... are you looking for once a week? Twice a week?” 

“I mean, if you’ve got _two_ empty slots, I’d be more than happy to fill them both for you,” Molly says with a chuckle.

Caleb hums, only half listening as he scribbles down his email and phone number as he’d done with Caduceus, tearing off the corner of the page to hand to Molly, who accepts it with a faint frown.

“If you could just email me your schedule and some examples of your current coursework, we can get something scheduled,” he says, tucking his book back in his bag. “I’ve only got one other student signed up currently but I’ll likely have a few more depending on the need so it may be a few days until I have a definitive schedule to give you.”

“I’ll await it with bated breath,” Molly says and pockets the note with a flourish. He moves to leave, pausing at the door to glance back at Caleb over his shoulder. 

“ _Auf Wiedersehen_ ,” he says, wriggling his fingers in a wave and winking before closing the door behind him with a click.

Caleb stares at the closed door for a few seconds, feeling as if he’d just been caught up in an extremely colorful hurricane, before remembering with a jolt that he had been getting ready to leave for class. He scoops the rest of his things into his bag and hurries out of the room, feeling buoyed and smiling faintly to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this a few weeks ago and already have two and a half chapters finished so I’m hoping to update relatively regularly (maybe weekly??). I’m excited to finally write something long form for CR, I hope you all have as much fun reading it as I do writing it!


	2. Chapter 2

It's nearing midnight when Caleb finishes typing his essay, stretching his arms over his head with a groan as his joints pop. He yawns and glances over at where Nott is dozing in the armchair, Frumpkin curled up in her lap and purring. Smiling, Caleb takes out his phone to snap a picture, setting it as his background before pocketing his phone again. 

There's a soft musical tone from his computer and he glances down to see he has several new emails in his inbox. Rubbing a crick from his neck, he pulls his computer onto his lap and clicks open the first one.

_Mr. Caleb,_

_Here is my class schedule and a couple of our worksheets from class. Tuesday or Thursdays would work best for me if you're available those times. I've got a single so we can meet in my dorm if you are okay with that. It's just me and my plants in here :)_

_-Caduceus Clay_

Caleb clicks open the attachments to scan through the schedule and worksheets, grimacing at the scrawled grade across the top. He types out a brief response to Caduceus that he should have a schedule by that weekend before reading through the rest of his emails. There is one from his Biochemistry professor sent to the entire class reminding them of their essay deadline, a junk email from a tax filing service, and email with the subject line of simply " _;)_ ". 

Caleb almost deletes it before he realizes the from address is a school email. He clicks it open warily.

_Hey, handsome. Here's my class junk and my schedule. Let me know when you want to hook up, I can kick out my roommate so we can ~study~ ;-Y_

_xoxo Molly_

Caleb squints at the emoticon at the end of the sentence, unsure what to make of it and wondering if Molly had made a typo. He flicks through Molly's schedule and reads the course outline before responding to his email. He pauses before adding a question as to what his emoticon means, shutting his laptop and standing to stretch after hitting the send button.

He leaves the room for a few minutes to change into sweats and brush his teeth, frowning when he returns and sees his phone light up with a text message from an unfamiliar number. Unlocking his phone, he stops in the process of scooting Frumpkin off Nott's lap so he can carry her to bed.  

The message is simply a picture of Mollymauk, clearly lying in bed, hair curled across his pillow and the tops of his collarbones visible in the bottom of the frame. His tongue sticking out, one eye closed in a wink. His tongue is forked.

_**Unknown number:** ;-Y_

_**Caleb:** I understand now. Thank you, Mollymauk._

_**Caleb:** If I may ask, were you born with this or is this an aesthetic choice?_

_**Unknown number:** LOL I was born with it. It's a tiefling thing. Comes in handy sometimes, if you know what I mean ;)_

Caleb does not know what he means but does not feel like asking. He saves Molly's number then pockets his phone and carefully scoops Nott up from the recliner, carrying her back to her bed and draping a blanket over her curled form before returning to his own room. His phone dings again as he's climbing under the covers.

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf:** goodnight Caleb. Sweet dreams ;-Y_

_**Caleb** : Goodnight, Mollymauk._

* * *

The line at the campus coffee shop winds nearly to the door when Caleb arrives the following morning, travel mug in hand and scarf still wrapped over his mouth against the chill outside. He yawns, flicking absently through his phone as the line creeps forward, one of the baristas intermittently calling out names as the drinks are finished.  

 

He's nearing the register when someone calls his name and he barely has a chance to look up before a fist is colliding against his side in what he imagines was intended to be a friendly jab but leaves him coughing and doubling over with the force of it.

"Whoops, sorry," Beau says, slapping him on the back as he clutches his ribs. 

"Beauregard," he gasps, wincing. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What I can't just say hi to my friend?" Beau says in an affronted tone. Caleb gives her a pointed look and she huffs out a breath, blowing her hair off her forehead. "Alright, fine," she says with a groan. She lowers her voice and leans closer, glancing around conspiratorially. "Are you still doing that tutoring thing?"

"Yes," Caleb says, straightening and rubbing his ribs with a grimace. 

"Cool, do you still have like, spots open?" Beau says. Her tone is casual but Caleb can see the restless energy in the way she shifts on her feet. 

"I do," Caleb replies with a nod. "I only have two people signed up so far. Are you needing help with something, Beauregard?"

Beau grimaces like the thought is causing her physical pain, but nods.

"Dude, that linguistics class  _suuuucks_ ," she says. "Seriously, how do you  _enjoy_ that shit?"

Caleb sniffs and gives her a deadpan look.

"Okay, okay," Beau says, holding her hands up in surrender. "Look, I just need some help, it's the only class I'm struggling in. If you could... help... I would," she grits her teeth, "really appreciate it." 

"I would be happy to help, Beauregard," Caleb says, smiling impassively. "I just need your course schedule so I can work out times with you and the other students."

"Oh yeah, who else are you tutoring?" Beau asks enthusiastically.

"A senior named Caduceus Clay—" 

"Oh, Jester knows him, he's pretty chill," Beau interrupts, miming zipping her lips when Caleb gives her a disapproving look.

"And Mollymauk Tealeaf," Caleb finishes. "I believe he's a sophomore."

Beau throws back her head and cackles.

"No  _shit_ ," she says, " _Molly_ , I can't wait to raze on him about needing  _tutoring_."

Caleb doesn't respond, thinking it best not to bring up the fact that she had just asked for tutoring herself. 

"I wasn't aware you two knew each other," he says instead, finally taking his place in front of the register and placing his order for a black coffee, handing his mug to the barista to fill. 

"Oh, yeah, well, you know, he's in the theatre club so we've hung out a few times," Beau says with a shrug. She sniggers again, pulling out her phone to text someone Caleb hopes is not Molly. 

Caleb thanks the barista as they pass him his drink, handing over a few bills and waving off the change.

"I have to get to class," he says as Beau snorts at something on her phone. 

She hums, patting him absently on the arm. "Just let me know when you're free," she says, not looking up from the screen as she wanders back to her table. 

Caleb tugs his scarf back up over his mouth before heading out into the frigid January morning. His phone dings in his pocket but he ignores it until he's reached the lecture hall for his Biochemistry class, slipping it out of his pocket as the seats fill around him.

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf** : nooo, why did you tell Beau I'm getting tutoring T-T_

Caleb heaves a sigh, making a mental note to scold Beau the next time he sees her before responding.

_**Caleb:** My apologies, Mollymauk, I did not realize the two of you knew each other._

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf:** it's okay I forgive you -3-_

_**Caleb:**  If it makes you feel any better, she is also going to be receiving lessons._

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf:** HA!!! _

_**Caleb** : My class is starting so I will have to go._

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf:** k byeeee, have fun xo_

* * *

 

When Caleb returns to the apartment that evening, it's to find Nott curled on the couch bundled in a blanket and watching something on her laptop. Frumpkin is lying across the back of the couch and eyeing her bowl of instant noodles, which she sets on the table as Caleb shuts the door behind him.

"How was class?" she says, pausing her movie and pushing Frumpkin off when he leaps onto her lap and meows plaintively. 

Caleb shrugs in response as he pulls off his coat and lets his bag fall onto the floor by the edge of the couch. He gestures for Nott to scoot aside and flops onto the couch next to her with a yawn, making a noise of thanks when she passes him the remainder of her noodles.

"Did you have anyone else sign up for tutoring?" she asks carefully, knowing how on edge Caleb has been about the prospect of no one signing up.

Caleb hums around a mouthful of noodles, swallowing before responding. "Beauregard," he says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "She wants help with our Linguistics class. But one of the other two wants to meet twice a week so I think this is at least a good start." 

He's been running calculations in his head all day and he thinks that the money he gets from the school, in combination with what he has left from his extra scholarships, will be enough to get him through the semester. 

"Is that the firbolg or the tiefling?" Nott says.

"The tiefling," Caleb responds. He swallows another forkful of noodles before setting the bowl back on the table, snapping his fingers to call Frumpkin over to his lap and scratching the cat absently behind the ears. "He's a little odd."

"Odd?" Nott says with a frown. "How so?"

Caleb pulls out his phone and opens up the text thread with Molly to show her by way of a response. Nott narrows her eyes as she reads the messages. 

"Well, just, be careful," she says as Caleb takes his phone back. "You never know who might be a weirdo around here."

Caleb chuckles. "Are we really ones to talk about weirdos?" he says, smiling when Nott scoffs. He stands up and stretches, settling Frumpkin around his shoulders like a furry cowl. "I'm going to head to my room and try and work up a schedule for lessons. Thank you for the noodles."

"You should really eat something else," Nott says, scowling when Caleb merely ruffles her hair before heading back the hall to his room.

He settles on his bed with his computer and pulls up the class schedule Beau had texted him along with Molly's and Caduceus' and sets about creating a timetable. He forwards it to all three of them, requesting they confirm the times work for them, before shutting his laptop and flopping back against the mattress. He's half dozing when his phone buzzes and he glances at it blearily to see a message from Molly on the screen.

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf:** Mondays and Wednesdays are fine with me. I'm in the west quad dorm room 209. See you Monday at 6 sharp, I'll make sure my roommate is out ;-Y_

Caleb tosses his phone back on the bed and lets his eyes fall shut again. He's fast asleep in minutes.

* * *

 

The weekend passes in a blur of coursework and planning assignments for Molly, Beau, and Caduceus. By the time Monday evening rolls around and he's making his way across campus to Molly's dorm, he's feeling confident that he's put together a decent preliminary plan for each of them. There are a few students roaming the dorm halls when he enters, glancing at his phone to doublecheck the room number Molly had given him. 

When he knocks on the door for room 209 at 5:58, he hears a few seconds of hurried clambering on the other side of the door before it swings open to reveal Molly looking mildly flustered but grinning. He's holding a glass of what Caleb assumes is red wine in one hand—the other hand resting on the doorframe—dressed in a silken blue robe that falls to his thighs, hanging open over a t-shirt and shorts. 

Without his long coat on, Caleb can now see the collection of other tattoos marking his arms and shoulders in addition to the peacock tattoo running along his jaw and neck. He catches a glimpse of flowers and what looks to be a snake winding around his arm before Molly draws his attention back.

"Hello, Caleb," he says. 

"Hello," Caleb replies, shifting awkwardly as Molly takes a sip from his glass, eyeing him over the rim. "Can I... come in?"

"Please do," Molly says, stepping back to allow him through the door. 

The room is surprisingly dark inside, which Caleb realizes after a few seconds is due to the fact that the lamps are turned off, the only source of light half a dozen candles sitting on various surfaces around the room. 

"This seems like a fire hazard," he says nervously as Molly shuts the door behind him, making the room even more dimly lit without the light from the hall.

He takes a few seconds to gaze around the room. The bed on the left is neatly made with a dark green comforter, a pennant for the swim team hanging over the bed but the walls otherwise bare. The bed on the left is barely visible behind the multitude of colorful gauzy sheers hanging down from the ceiling around it like a makeshift canopy bed. 

"I take it that one is yours?" he says, pointing to the bed on the right.

"How did you guess?" Molly says with a teasing wink as he takes a seat on the edge of his mattress. He pats the spot beside him, crossing his legs and leaning back on one hand, swirling his drink in the other. 

"Ah, this lighting really is not conducive for studying," Caleb says, gesturing to the flickering candles.

Molly's face falls slightly.

"You're no fun,"  he says, pouting as he stands to set his drink on his nightstand and flick on the overhead light, bathing the room in stark fluorescent light.

"Much better," Caleb says as Molly plops back down on the bed. Caleb pulls out his notebook and the materials he had printed for Molly before taking a seat on the floor in the middle of the room. "I printed off a few things for us to review as well as some exercises I'd like you to work on between now and Wednesday. I think the best way to begin is to see how you take notes."

Molly grumbles but stands to move towards the tiny desk crammed into the corner of the room covered with haphazardly stacked notebooks. He rummages through them before pulling out a thin binder, which he passes to Caleb before taking a seat on the floor next to him.

Caleb flips open the binder and turns through the nearly empty pages. There are a few scribbled notes here and there but the majority of the pages are taken up by random doodles and scribbles.

"Is this... it?" Caleb says, glancing at Molly, who shrugs.

"Told you I was shit at history," he says, examining his fingernails. "It's just so  _boring,"_ he adds, sighing dramatically. “Like who cares what some dead dudes did three thousand years ago anyway?”

“As a history major, I’ll try not to take offense to that,” Caleb says. He sets Molly’s notebook aside and pulls out a few blank pieces of paper. "So, first things first, we need to work on your notetaking habits."

He ignores Molly's pained groan and spends the next forty-five showing him how to take more efficient notes. They work through his most recent assignment, Caleb offering him pointers but making sure not to do the work for him, satisfied with the outline they pull together for the essay Molly has due the following week. 

"So, I had some exercises I was going to give you," Caleb says when they've been working for just over two hours, Molly rubbing his temples and looking thoroughly less composed than he did when Caleb had first arrived. He's discarded the robe, tossing it on the floor in the corner of the room, once artfully rumpled hair sticking up in spots where he's raked his hands through it in frustration. 

"I can't," Molly whines at the prospect of more work, collapsing back on the carpet resignedly. He drapes one arm over his eyes dramatically. "I'm spent."

Caleb smiles and absently gives the tiefling's leg a reassuring pat.

"What I was going to say," he continues. "Is that, instead of these, I'd like you to just focus on your notetaking when you're in class tomorrow. That is your homework, I'll save these for later," he adds, holding up the work he'd created over the weekend.

Molly lifts his arm from his eyes to look up at him. "I could kiss you," he says earnestly.

"Well," Caleb says, looking away with a nervous laugh, his face flushing warm. He clears his throat.  "Um, so, just work on that and have those for Wednesday so I can look over them and we can work more on your essay."

Molly hums in agreement, arm resting over his eyes again. He heaves a sigh and pushes himself into a sitting position to stretch his arms over his head with a satisfied groan. His shirt rides up his stomach and Caleb catches a glimpse of the smooth, bare skin of his abdomen.

"Like what you see?" Molly says, snapping Caleb's attention back to his face, lips curled up in a smirk.

"Apologies," Caleb says hurriedly, "I was just noticing you did not have any tattoos on your stomach. You have quite a lot of them."

Molly hums, still grinning. "Wanna see them?" he says, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt. 

"O-oh, well, I—" Caleb begins, voice faltering when Molly shrugs and pulls his t-shirt over his head before Caleb can answer.

"It's cool," Molly says, scooting around so he's sitting directly across from Caleb on the floor, their knees bumping. "I like showing them off."

He holds out his right arm and Caleb takes a few moments to admire the intricate floral design interwoven with a snake whose head is printed on Molly's hand, jaws inked in such a way that when Molly separates his thumb and forefinger it's mouth seems to open. The piece turns into the peacock further up his arm, the tail weaving up over his clavicle to end along the arch of his cheekbone.

Molly turns his arm for Caleb to see the other side before rotating his torso so Caleb can view the delicate sun and moon piece across his left shoulder. The piece continues around to his back and Molly shifts so he can turn around to give Caleb a clear view of the elaborate pyramid covering most of his upper back, a wide eye staring back at him from the center and a second eye sitting just below his hairline.

"Wow," Caleb says as Molly turns to face him again, still grinning. "That is a lot of tattoos. Wasn't that... painful?"

Molly shrugs, running his fingers absently along the curve of the snake on his right arm.

"Didn't really bother me," he says. "The worst part was sitting in the chair waiting for it to be finished. What about you? Do you have any?"

"Ah, no," Caleb says with a grimace. "I don't think I would have the stomach for that. Not a fan of needles."

"It's really not that bad," Molly insists. "Here." He reaches for Caleb's arm, pulling it into his lap and scratching lightly at the back of his hand with his fingernail. It doesn't hurt, per se, more irritating than painful.

"Does that hurt?" Molly says, giving him an expectant look.

"Not really, no," Caleb replies.

"See?" Molly says with a bright smile. "You'd be fine." 

He's not scratching the back of Caleb's hand anymore, though his fingers are still curled loosely around it, keeping it resting in his lap and Caleb leaning forward towards him slightly. His smile fades a little as he wets his lips, the forked tip of his tongue poking between them briefly. His thumb brushes lightly over the ridges of Caleb's knuckles, eyes fixed carefully on Caleb's face like he's waiting for his reaction.

Caleb isn’t quite sure how to react, though. He swallows thickly, suddenly feeling overly warm, and opens his mouth dumbly.

“Um—"

He's saved trying to form a coherent sentence as the door swings open and a tall half-orc steps inside the room, looking vaguely annoyed. 

Caleb quickly pulls his hand back and scoots a few inches back from Molly, who's glowering at the half-orc so hard Caleb is a little surprised he doesn't step back from the sheer force of it.

"Fjord," Molly says through gritted teeth, lips turned up in an almost manic smile. "You're back early."

The half-orc glances between the two of them with an almost bored look, lingering on Caleb for half a beat. He seems to be stopping himself from rolling his eyes with extreme difficulty.

"Dude, you said 8," the half-orc says, moving into the room and dropping the backpack slung over one shoulder onto the bed. "It's almost 8:30. I've got practice tomorrow morning and I'm not sleeping in the hall again so you can get your rocks off."

Molly scowls at the back of his roommate's head before turning to Caleb, expression still tight but softening.

"Sorry about that," he mutters. "Fjord doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds, raising his voice slightly and throwing another glare at the half-orc.

"I should get going anyway," Caleb mumbles, standing and hurriedly gathering up his things to put in his bag. He tugs on his coat and slips his bag over his shoulder. 

"Remember," he begins, turning to Mollymauk, who's still seated slumped on the carpet, looking defeated. "Notetaking. We'll discuss it more on Wednesday." 

Molly sighs and pushes himself to his feet to trail a few steps behind Caleb as he moves to the door. 

"Got it," he says, flashing Caleb a half-hearted thumbs up. "See you Wednesday, then."

Caleb nods and pulls the door open.

"Nice to meet you," he calls back to Molly's roommate, who grunts and waves a hand in farewell without turning away from where he's rooting through his backpack. "See you on Wednesday, Mollymauk." 

Molly smiles faintly before shutting the door behind Caleb as he steps out into the hall. He hears Molly say something as soon as the door clicks shut but he can't understand what it is. Hitching his bag higher on his shoulder, Caleb wraps his scarf around his face and heads towards the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got the first five chapters done and a good bit of later ones done so if I can keep up my writing pace and people enjoy this I may update a little more frequently. I hope you’re enjoying so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW I guess for like the barest mention of drugs

Tuesday dawns cold and clear. The snow that had fallen over the past week still blankets campus, the temperature not having climbed high enough to melt it yet, giving everything the appearance of having been liberally frosted.

Caleb bumps into Beau on his way to get coffee and she graciously agrees to buy his drink along with her own sugary seasonal latte and muffin when she sees how exhausted Caleb looks. They get their drinks and move to a table near the door to sit. Caleb has to force himself with immense difficulty from gulping down the scalding coffee, staring forlornly at his mug while he waits for it to cool down enough to drink.

“You seriously look like shit,” Beau says around a mouthful of muffin, spraying crumbs onto the table. She swallows and takes a sip of her drink. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Caleb merely grunts, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely into the back of his hand. He’d stayed up until past midnight after returning from Molly’s dorm to work on his own homework before getting up at 6:30 to get ready for his eight o'clock biochemistry class.

“I just need to adjust,” he mutters as he finally gives up waiting and takes a drink from his mug. He winces as the coffee burns over his tongue and down the back of his throat, already knowing it’s going to hurt the rest of the day. He takes another sip anyway and sighs as the warmth hits his stomach.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Beau says as she rips off another hunk of blueberry muffin and pops it into her mouth. “Want some muffin?” She adds, pushing it across the table towards him.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbles. He’s so tired the thought of food makes his stomach turn.

He knows he should eat something, he’d barely eaten dinner the night before either. And Nott would be on his case if she found out he’d been skipping meals. He makes a mental note to pick up a sandwich from the dining hall between classes.

He’s staring at his coffee, wondering vaguely the possibility of just getting it injected straight into his arm with an IV when someone fills the only remaining seat crammed around their tiny table. Caleb stares blearily at them for a few seconds before his brain processes that it’s Mollymauk.

“Good morning,” Mollymauk says brightly as he sets down his cup. “How are you doing this lovely morning?”

The question is directed at Caleb but Beau is the one to answer.

“Tired from tutoring your dumb ass all night, apparently,” she says, smirking as Molly glowers at her.

He snatches up a piece of her muffin and pops it into his mouth, ignoring her protests, before turning to Caleb, brow furrowing in concern as he takes in his bedraggled appearance. Caleb knows he looks horrible, unshaven with dark bags under his eyes and his hair pulled up in a messy bun at the base of his skull. His hair isn’t quite long enough to be pulled up fully, half of it hanging limp around his face. It’s a far cry from Molly, who looks immaculately put together, dressed in deep blue damask-patterned shirt tucked into dark pants, an emerald scarf draped artfully around his neck.

“Caleb, is that true?” Molly asks worriedly. His tail, which had been resting absently under his chair, brushes lightly against Caleb’s ankle.

“I am fine,” Caleb insists even as fights back a yawn. 

Molly clucks his tongue with a sympathetic noise. “Oh, darling,” he says gently. He reaches out to brush some of the loose hair back from Caleb’s face and tuck it behind his ear. The tips of his fingers trail lightly over Caleb’s jaw before his hand falls back onto the table, though he’s still watching Caleb guiltily. Caleb is too tired to process what he’s doing before the touch is gone.

“Well, I promise not to keep you out so late tomorrow,” Molly vows as he pats the back of Caleb’s hand where it’s resting on the table. His fingers linger for a moment longer before he gives Caleb another sad smile and pushes himself to his feet.

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I have to get to class,” he sighs. “See you around, Beau. See you tomorrow, Caleb.” He slips on his coat and picks up his drink, waving at Beau and winking at Caleb before striding out the door.

Caleb takes another long gulp of his coffee, pausing as he catches Beau staring at him across the table, expression halfway between disbelief and amusement. 

“What?” he questions, glancing over his shoulder with the thought Beau is looking at someone behind him.

“What the fuck was  _that_?” Beau says, half laughing.

“What was what?” Caleb responds quizzically.

Beau gestures wildly towards the door. “That!” she all but shouts, briefly flicking off a passing couple who glance at her reproachfully, before fixing Caleb with an incredulous look.

“Beauregard, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m very tired right now.” He gives her a weary, expectant look and she heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“Whatever  _that_  was with Molly,” she hisses. She pauses, eyes widening as she leans across the table towards him. “Hang on. Are you two—“ she mouths the next word more than she actually says it but Caleb still glances around wildly to make sure no one is listening to them, suddenly wide awake.

“ _What_?” he splutters. His cheeks prickle as heat rushes to his face. “No! What—we just met, I—w-why would you say that?”

_“_ Caleb, please tell me _you’re_ not even that oblivious.” Beau fixes him with a dubious look, leaning back in her chair. “That was, quite frankly, disgusting. And that's coming from _me_ , so...”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Caleb mutters. “Mollymauk is just—he was being nice. We barely know each other.”

“Well he  _definitely_  wants to change that,” Beau says, trailing off into a chuckle, eyebrows raising suggestively. “I mean, I know Molly likes to screw around, but that pretty blatant even for him.”

Caleb takes a long drink from his mug for something to do, face still warm and eyes roaming the crowded shop to avoid Beau’s amused gaze. He supposes it makes sense, given the way Molly has treated him since they met, but he’s been so preoccupied juggling a dozen things the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“So are you gonna fuck him then?”

Caleb inhales a mouthful of coffee. He doubles over, spluttering and wheezing as he tries to clear it from his lungs, his eyes watering painful. Beau hands him a napkin across the table and he coughs into it. She’s still watching him with mild amusement, arms folded and one eyebrow quirked.

“ _What is wrong with you_?” Caleb chokes indignantly.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Beau responds. “Are you?”

“I don’t—you can’t— _no_!” Caleb sputters. “But that’s not really your business.”

Beau hums, looking doubtful. “I give it a month,” she says with a shrug. “Molly may be an idiot but he’s a charming one. And no offense, Caleb, but you are  _very_  easy to read. You look like a tomato right now.”

"Because you are being _wildly_ inappropriate," he hisses.

"Or because now you're thinking about it." Beau smirks, tapping the side of her nose knowingly and winking.

Caleb stammers weakly in protest but she ignores him, standing to pull on her jacket and scarf.

“See you later,” she says, thumping him amiably on the shoulder as she walks past him toward the exit.

Caleb slumps in his chair, staring at the dregs of his cold coffee with a defeated sigh.

* * *

 

He’s still ruminating on his conversation with Beau when he leaves class a few hours later. He heads to his office to get some work done before his next class, going over the material he’s prepared for Caduceus when he realizes he’d never found out where Caduceus’ dorm room is located. Pulling out his phone, he quickly emails Caduceus before gathering up his things to head to the dining hall to get something to eat before he feels any guiltier for skipping breakfast.

His phone dings with a text message as he’s walking and he pulls it from his pocket, a message from an unfamiliar number on the screen.

**_Unknown number:_ ** _good morning, Mr. Caleb, this is Caduceus Clay. I hope it’s okay to contact you this way, I wanted to let you know my dorm is in the Baxter building, room number 3J on the third floor. I’m looking forward to seeing you this evening, hope you are having a nice day :)_

**_Caleb:_ ** _yes, thank you, Caduceus, you are welcome to text me. Thank you for letting me know, I will be there at 5 this evening._

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _See you then :)_

He buys himself a sandwich from the bored looking woman behind the counter, munching at it absently as he heads to class. His phone pings from his pocket again as he’s stepping back into the cold January air.

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Just wondering, are there any refreshments you’d prefer? It’ll be around dinner time and I don’t want you going hungry or anything. I keep some things in my dorm but I’m a vegetarian so I don’t know if you’d like something else instead._

**_Caleb:_ ** _that’s very kind of you to offer, but I think I’ll be okay. I can always eat when I get back to my apartment._

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _If you’re sure. Just let me know if you change your mind :)_

**_Caleb:_ ** _Of course. Thank you again for offering._

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _:)_

The room for his Modern European History class is slowly filling when he arrives a few minutes later, sliding into a seat near the back of the room. He’s half regretting not getting himself more coffee and wondering if his professor would notice if he dozed off. He decides against it and manages to keep his focus for it and the other two classes he has that day, feeling more awake after he breaks down and gets himself another coffee after his next class ends. By the time he’s heading across campus to Caduceus’ dorm, he’s wired with nervous energy.

Knocking lightly at the door, he rocks absently on his feet, squinting at a sticky note pasted to the wall under Caduceus’ room number. It’s a cartoonish drawing of a firbolg he assumes is intended to be Caduceus, smiling pleasantly with little flowers and mushrooms scattered over the rest of the slip of paper. He’s still looking at it when the door opens and Caduceus’ long shadow falls over him.

“Hello there,” the firbolg says in that same unhurried tone he’d had the first time Caleb had met him.

“Ah,  _hallo,_ ” Caleb responds, straightening up. He gestures to the drawing, “I was just admiring your little picture. You are a good artist.”

“Oh, that?” Caduceus says, glancing at the drawing. “That wasn’t me. Jester drew that for me at the start of the semester. She’s an art major. I’m afraid my talents are limited solely to plants and cooking.”

“Jester?” Caleb says, frowning. “Lavorre?”

Caduceus hums in affirmation. “Do you know her? Sweet girl. We took first aide together last year and just stayed friends.”

“She is good friends with my roommate, Nott,” Caleb replies. “She’s slept over a few times. And she’s roommates with my friend Beauregard. But yes, she is very sweet. A little overwhelming at times. But sweet.”

Caduceus chuckles. “Her heart’s in the right place,” he says, “she bought me some great cookbooks for Christmas. Did you know they have cookbooks just for mushrooms? Wild.”

“I did not,” Caleb says. He meets Caduceus’ serene gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly after a few long seconds.

“Oh, right, why don’t you come inside?” Caduceus says, not looking abashed. “Sorry for the mess, I was just having a chat with the plants and lost track of time.”

Caleb frowns, completely at a loss at how to interpret this declaration, but follows Caduceus into the room.

The first thing Caleb is struck by is how bright the room is. In stark contrast to Molly’s room, it’s nearly bright as daylight in Caduceus’ due in fact to the half a dozen bright lights situated on the side of the room not occupied by the bed and desk.

“That is a lot of plants,” Caleb says, eyeing the dozen or so pots sitting directly beneath the lights.

“Yeah, they’re kind of my thing, I guess,” Caduceus says as he takes Caleb’s coat to hang it on the hook on the back of the closet door. “The lights keep them nice and healthy since there’s not much sunlight right now.”

Caleb takes a few steps towards the plants to peer over them. They’re bright and leafy, a few of them sprouting tightly closed buds. He doesn't recognize most of them but he can tell they are well cared for. There's a small pink watering can set amongst them and he can see the soil is damp in a few of the pots. There are sticky notes on all of the pots labeled with little notes like "likes watered in the morning" and "responds to Chopin". 

Caleb glances back at Caduceus and gestures to the notes with a questioning look.

"Just little reminders to myself of what they like," Caduceus says, as if it's a perfectly normal thing to say. "You know, plants are like people, they've got their own personalities and everything."

"I see," Caleb mutters, turning back to look over the plants again. “Is that...?” he trails off, gesturing to a suspiciously familiar looking plant growing near the wall.

“Oh, yeah,” Caduceus says, nodding placidly. “Strictly for my own personal use,” he adds, holding up his hands in admission. “Mostly use it to help me focus when I’m meditating. I don’t sell it or anything.”

“Ah,” Caleb says weakly. He clears his throat. “You’re not... right now... ?” 

“Hmm? Oh, no, totally sober right now,” Caduceus says with a shake of his head. “Like I said, I use it mainly to clear my head when I’m meditating. Sometimes if I’m feeling stressed. But that’s it, really.” 

Caleb tries and fails to imagine what a stressed Caduceus might look like.

“I’ve got some mushrooms growing in the closet too,” Caduceus says, gesturing absently to the shut door of the closet. “The food kind I mean,” he adds when Caleb’s eyes go wide.

“Right,” Caleb mumbles, still glancing at the closet door.

“If it bothers you, we can go to the library,” Caduceus says. He looks vaguely guilty, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Caleb says hurriedly. “Really, I don’t mind. I was just a bit... taken aback. It’s fine.”

Caduceus gives him another broad smile, so warm and genuine that Caleb has to look away, clearing his throat and feigning searching for something in his bag.

“Right, so, if you could get out your textbook and any notes you take, I think that would be a good place to start.” Caleb pulls the folder he’d started for Caduceus out and waits for Caduceus to dig his thick chemistry textbook and notebook out of his bag.

“I only have one chair, Caduceus gestures to the seat sitting at his desk. “But I can sit on the bed, you take it.”

“Oh, thank you,” Caleb says as Caduceus pulls the chair around the face the bed before he takes a seat on the edge of the mattress.

Caduceus passes Caleb his textbook and notes and Caleb spends a few minutes flipping through them alongside the printouts of the worksheets Caduceus has emailed him. Caduceus’ handwriting is neat and loopy, with detailed diagrams copied from his textbook, but when Caleb compares them to the problems on his worksheet, it’s clear to him that something isn’t connecting between the two.

“The good news is that your notes are wonderful,” Caleb says, holding up the notebook.

“You sound surprised,” Caduceus responds, though there’s no annoyance in his voice, expression still placid.

“W-well,” Caleb stammers, flushing. “I suppose I wasn’t—the assignments you sent me didn’t suggest you would keep this detailed of notes.”

Caduceus smiles and shrugs. “I mean, I write it all down. But I don’t really... get it, I guess. Like these little bondy things,” he points to one of the Lewis structures drawn out in his notes. I don’t understand how they work or what they mean, really. And that molar mass stuff... I’m not really a math guy.” He grimaces and Caleb feels a rush of sympathy towards him.

“I’m the same way with art,” Caleb says, nodding when Caduceus gives him a questioning look. “Really, I can barely draw a circle. And interpreting it? Why can’t it just be a man riding a horse, why does it have to be a metaphor for masculinity or... whatever? Same thing with psychology. I suppose I like things more clear cut and definitive than some people. Not everyone excels in everything.”

Caduceus beams and Caleb can’t help but smile back. There’s something so infectious about it that it can’t stop himself. He turns back to Caduceus’ notes, pursing his lips and frowning in consideration.

“Let’s work on understanding bonds first,” he says. He turns to a blank page in Caduceus’ notebook and pulls a pen out of his bag, balancing it all on his lap in a way Caduceus can see what he’s doing.

“Let’s use water as an example, it’s fairly straightforward. So oxygen in its most basic state has eight electrons,” Caleb begins, drawing a simple diagram of an oxygen atom. “And it wants ten to be fully stable. And hydrogen has one and wants two.” He scribbles to hydrogen atoms on either side of the oxygen one. “So, essentially, the oxygen is sharing one of its electrons with each of the hydrogens which are, in turn, sharing their electron with the oxygen.”

“So, everyone’s happy,” Caduceus interjects, leaning forward to get a better look at Caleb’s diagram.

Caleb chuckles. “Yes, everyone’s happy,” he says, nodding as he continues, “Sharing electrons like this is a covalent bond, each of the levels of electrons around a nucleus are called electron shells. The first one needs two electrons to be the most stable, the second needs eight, so ten in total. Bigger atoms have even more shells so it can get quite complicated with things like peptide chains and—“ he stops when he catches the look on Caduceus’ face and realizes he’s rambling.

“Sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat, “got carried away.”

“Don’t apologize,” Caduceus says, smiling softly. “It’s nice seeing people excited for what they’re passionate about. And you really did make it easier to understand, you just lost me a little at the end there.”

“We’ll get there in time,” Caleb assures him. “Simple things first.”

He walks Caduceus through several more molecular structures, allowing him to do a few for himself to ensure he understands it, before using a similar method to explain ionic bonds. There’s a sense of pride upon watching as comprehension dawns on Caduceus’ face as he watches Caleb jot down little diagrams and detail them each for him.

Caduceus offers him a drink when they’ve been working for an hour, standing and shuffling over to the desk, where Caleb watches with disbelief as he pulls out an electric tea kettle and several mugs along with a bag of loose tea leaves.

“I hope you like oolong,” Caduceus says, glancing back at Caleb as he sets about pouring water from a gallon jug into the reservoir before scooping tea leaves into little mesh strainers dangling from fine chains.

“I don’t have any milk or sugar but would you like some honey?” He glances back expectantly at Caleb. 

“O-oh no thank you,” Caleb says, still trying to wrap his brain around what he’s seeing when Caduceus hands him a steaming mug of a tea a few minutes later, the little ball of tea leaves bobbing in the slowly darkening water.

“Something wrong?” Caduceus asks as he dips his tea leaves absently.

“No,” Caleb says with a faint smile. He blows lightly on his own tea before taking a careful sip. “You are an interesting man, Caduceus Clay.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Caduceus replies, raising his mug in a faux toast before taking a sip. "Can I get you something to eat?" he asks, setting his mug down carefully on the floor. 

"No, thank you, I'm fine," Caleb says even as he feels his stomach contract with hunger. 

Caduceus clucks his tongue and pushes himself to his feet again, rummaging through his desk and pulling out a little box of tea biscuits, which he holds out to Caleb.

"Trust me, the British are onto something here," he says, smiling when Caleb reluctantly takes a few biscuits from the proffered box. Caduceus sets the box down on the bed next to him as he sits back down. "Besides, you look like you need a few good meals. You’re so skinny I can practically see through you."

Caleb glances up at Caduceus’ own thin frame and quirks an eyebrow.

"I'm seven feet tall and have the metabolism of a hummingbird," he offers by way of explanation, smiling faintly. "You just look underfed."

"I'm not sure if I should feel insulted by that or not," Caleb says, frowning.

"No, no offense intended," Caduceus says with a shake of his head. "I can just recognize people who aren't eating right, weird talent I got growing up. I think you look great. Just in need of a few good meals." 

"To be fair, I do have a tendency to forget to eat," Caleb mumbles. "My roommate is always getting after me for it."

"Well there you go," Caduceus says, "I'll remind you, too."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Caleb insists. "I'm a grown man, I should be able to look after myself."

"No shame in needing a little extra help," Caduceus says, reaching out to pat Caleb's knee. "It's no trouble at all."

Caleb mutters a thanks, feeling equal parts abashed and grateful. He thinks if he lived with Caduceus, he’d never have the chance to skip a meal again with how guilty he feels trying to turn him down. He shifts the attention back to Caduceus' textbook and they spend another half an hour working through Caduceus’ notes before Caduceus declares he’s kicking Caleb out.

“It’s almost seven o’clock and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang around me all evening,” he says when Caleb gives him a confused look. “Besides, you still need to eat. A real meal, biscuits don't count.”

Caduceus passes him his coat and walks him to the door, the soft, perpetual smile never leaving his face.

“I really appreciate you helping me, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus says as Caleb steps into the hall and turns back to face him. “You’re a really good teacher.”

“Well, it helps to have a good student,” Caleb replies honestly. “I suppose we shall see how effective I am at teaching when you have your next exam.”

Caduceus pats him reassuringly on the shoulder and Caleb is thrown a little by how large his hand is, his warm fingers resting lightly on his shoulder for a few seconds before pulling back. 

“I’ll see you next week, Caleb.”

“Until then,” Caleb says with a nod. Caduceus gives him one last warm smile before shutting the door, leaving Caleb alone in the empty hall, absently touching his shoulder as he walks away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve now got almost 7 chapters of this finished, hopefully moving forward the chapters will be a bit longer. Thank you to those who have commented, it gives me the warmest of fuzzies :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Beauregard, please, I cannot teach you if you are not paying attention.” 

Beau scowls but abandons trying to catch the attention of the petite blonde girl sitting two tables away with her head bowed over a thick textbook. 

“You’re killing my game, Caleb,” she groans, slouching down in her chair and tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

“Yes, well, this is study time, not game time,” Caleb says blandly. He pushes Beau’s textbook towards her again and taps the section they had been going over. “Let’s review this section on proto-languages again and please pay attention this time.”

Beau groans even louder and slumps deeper in her seat before pushing herself back up and glaring down at the text like it’s personally offended her.

“Why did I take his stupid class,” she grumbles, flipping the page with so much force it tears half an inch down the center.

“You know, I can see why you and Mollymauk are friends,” Caleb begins. “You both have a similar approach to learning. Complain about it until you get so fed up you finally learn something,” he explains, the corners of his mouth twitching when Beau glowers at him.

“You’re hilarious,” she deadpans. She sighs and tugs absently at her topknot. “Speaking of Molly. How’s  _that_  going?”

Caleb sniffs. He’d had another tutoring session two nights before with Molly, pleased to see an improvement already in his notes and spending an hour and a half helping him flesh out his essay before telling him to text him if he had any questions since it was due the following Monday. He’s not sure yet if he regrets that part.

But he knows that’s not what Beau is talking about so he doesn’t answer her.

“C’moooon,” Beau coaxes, nudging him with her elbow suggestively. “ _Ahaha_ , did you guys do it?”

“Beauregard, this is highly inappropriate,” Caleb says, trying to sound firm even as his face warms. “I am on school time right now.”

Beau leans back in her seat and gives him a long look, smirking faintly.

“Nah,” she says at last, sounding vaguely disappointed. “Not yet. But it’s just a matter of time.” 

Caleb gives her a stern look and pointedly taps the pages of her textbook with his pen again. She grumbles but returns to reading silently for a few minutes, her leg jiggling restlessly under the table.

The library is relatively empty at the moment, many students still in Friday classes. With Beau’s lacrosse practice schedule combined with Caleb’s other tutoring and class obligations, it had been one of the few times they both had free during the week. Though Caleb will never say it out loud knowing that Beau would tease him relentlessly for it, it’s comforting being surrounded by the tall stacks of books, the faintly musty smell of aged paper and leather and occasional soft tread of footsteps on carpet as one of the other students peruses the shelves. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Beau says after no more than five minutes of reading. “Jester and I are throwing a Valentines Day party at our place. You should come.”

“You know I don’t like parties, Beauregard,” Caleb replies, not looking up from his book. He jots down a note in one of the margins and straightens his papers absently.

“Yeah, I know, you like being boring as fuck,” Beau says, rolling her eyes. “But it’ll be fun. Jes is inviting Nott, too. Come on, we’re all pathetic and single, might as well celebrate it.”

Caleb sighs, glancing up at her. “I will consider it,” he says. “But I make no promises.”

Beau shrugs but looks content like she wasn’t expecting much commitment beyond that. She returns back to her book, occasionally scribbling notes and asking Caleb the odd question over the next few minutes. Caleb can hear her grumbling in frustration under her breath next to him every now and then, erasing something furiously and flipping through her textbook in search of something.

Caleb sits up, frowning, when he feels the sensation of someone looking at him, and turns to see a familiar firbolg making his way across the room towards them. Caduceus raises a hand in greeting when Caleb looks up at him and Caleb waves back, smiling faintly.

“Good morning, Mr. Clay,” he says when Caduceus reaches them. 

Beau glances up at Caduceus, eyes widening a little at the size of him.

“Good morning," Caduceus replies, smiling and nodding at Beau in greeting. She nods back, still looking faintly awestruck. "I was just picking up some things for class when I saw you and thought I’d say hello."

“You’re Jester’s friend right?” she says. “Caduceus?”

“That’s me,” Caduceus says. He frowns in consideration. “Beauregard right? Jester’s roommate? I've been over a couple times but I don’t think we've ever been properly introduced.”

Beau grunts in affirmation and Caduceus smiles, holding out his hand for Beau to shake, easily dwarfing her much smaller one.

“Very nice to finally meet you,” he says. “Jester has talked about you quite fondly. I’m glad she has such a good roommate.”

Beau seems to puff up a little at the compliment, straightening in her seat and grinning.

“Yeah, well, Jester is pretty cool, too,” she says with a nonchalant shrug. “She didn’t say anything else about me, huh? Like, how fondly are we talking here?”

Caleb rolls his eyes in exasperation, glancing at Caduceus, who catches his eye and smiles back at him knowingly.

“She seemed to care about you a lot,” Caduceus says simply, exchanging another look with Caleb when Beau looks mollified.

“How did class go yesterday?” Caleb asks, hoping to shift the subject.

Caduceus turns to face him more fully, smile widening.

“Really great,” he says earnestly, “I actually understood what was going on in class a little more which is a first. You’re a really great teacher, Caleb.”

“Ah, well,” Caleb looks away, clearing his throat. “I am happy to help.”

"Oh!" Caduceus' expression brightens as if he's just recalled something. "I was going text you but when I saw you I thought I might as well say it in person. Did you remember to eat breakfast?"

"Ah, well..." Caleb trails off guiltily as Beau gives him a questioning look and Caduceus looks torn between concern and admonition.  

"Here," Caduceus slips off his bag and sets it on the table, digging through it for a moment to pull out a little plastic back of what looks to be granola which he plops in front of Caleb.

Before Caleb can take it, Beau reaches across the table to open it and scoop out a handful, popping half of it into her mouth.

"What?" she says defensively, mouth full. "I'm hungry." She chews thoughtfully for a moment before looking up at Caduceus with mild surprise. "That's fucking good." She cranes her neck to try and peer into Caduceus' bag. "Do you have any more?"

"Beauregard," Caleb mumbles sternly. But Caduceus simply chuckles and pulls another bag out and tosses it to her.

"Nice," Beau mutters as she catches is. "Where is this from, anyway?" She asks as she shovels another handful into her mouth.

"I made it," Caduceus replies, smiling.

Beau's eyes widen in disbelief, like the idea of cooking is so incredibly foreign to her the possibility had not crossed her mind. Though, Caleb thinks, knowing her, it's probably not far off.

"Dude," she says, leaning towards Caduceus and lowering her voice as if she's about to make an illicit deal. "Can you make me more? Wait—" she freezes, holding up her hands as realization seems to dawn on her. She points a finger almost accusingly at Caduceus, "Are you the one who made those cookies for Jester at Christmas? Those little unicorn things?"

"Yeah," Caduceus says, brightening. "Yeah, those were fun."

Beau groans almost indecently and Caleb glances around to make sure no one is paying attention to them. The blonde girl looks over her shoulder with a faintly offended look but turns back to her book a moment later. 

"I ate so many of those I almost puked," Beau says earnestly, grinning.

"I, um, thanks? I think," Caduceus says, brow furrowing in an almost concerned frown, like he's not quite sure how to handle Beau's personality.

"But this stuff is good too," Beau continues, shaking the bag of granola. 

"Next time I make a batch I'll make sure some of it gets to you," Caduceus says. 

Caleb looks between the two of them with mild bemusement as Beau flashes Caduceus a thumbs up, mouth full again.

“Oh, Caleb, I wanted to ask,” Caduceus begins, turning to Caleb—who was beginning to feel like a third wheel in the conversation—again, “is there a different type of tea you prefer? I’d be more than happy to pick something else up, there’s this great tea shop a few blocks away.”

“No, no, it’s perfectly alright,” Caleb insists. “What you had was good. I’m actually more of a coffee person normally but I could probably stand to cut back on the caffeine. It makes me... jittery.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Caduceus says. He gives Caleb another warm smile and Caleb is suddenly struck by the fact that his eyes are a pale, coral pink, soft and as oddly calming as his voice. His expression changes into something more fond and Caleb feels his stomach sink and flip simultaneously.

_Scheisse_.

“Great,” Caleb says automatically, though he doesn’t remember what he’s replying to, his brain suddenly whirring into a panicked overdrive.

“I’ve got to go get my books,” Caduceus says, gesturing to the long shelves of books absently. “I’ll see you later, Caleb. Don't forget to eat," he adds, pointing to the now half-empty bag in front of Caleb. "Nice to meet you, Beau.”

Caleb hums and forces a stiff smile in response, hands balling nervously in his lap under the desk.

“Later, dude. Thanks again for the granola,” Beau says. She watches Caduceus leave for a few seconds before her gaze snaps to Caleb, eyes wide.

“Dude,  _seriously_ ,” she hisses. “This guy, too?“

“Beauregard, please,” Caleb mutters, glancing around to make sure Caduceus is gone.

“Well thank fuck I’m a lesbian, I guess, cause I do  _not_  want to fuck you, man,” she says, throwing up her arms in incredulity. She gives Caleb another shrewd look, lips pursed. “So what methods are you using to teach these guys? Is it strip tutoring? It’s strip tutoring, isn’t it? Dammit, that’s smart."

“No! Beauregard, please this is serious,” Caleb pleads, groaning and burying his face in his hands.

Beau is silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Are you into either of them?” she says, the teasing tone gone from her voice.

“I don’t know.” Caleb’s voice is muffled by his hands as he says it. He drops his hands to the table, slumping in his chair.

“Does that guy even know  _he’s_  into  _you_?” Beau says, jerking her thumb in the direction Caduceus has left. “Because no offense, but he did not seem like the brightest bulb, if you know what I mean.”

Caleb doesn’t respond, simply dragging one hand through his hair.

“So unfair,” Beau grumbles, “I can’t get a single chick in this stupid school and you get two guys to fall in love with you after a week.”

“They are not in love with me,” Caleb says with a reproachful look.

Beau sighs and tilts her chair back on two legs.

“I can’t work anymore today,” she says, shutting her Linguistics book with a snap. “How am I supposed to concentrate when every guy on campus wants to fuck you?”

Caleb lets his head thump down on the table with a frustrated whine.

 

* * *

When Caleb returns to the apartment later that afternoon, Nott is seated on the living room floor in front of her laptop next to a bright blue tiefling, who squeals happily as he shuts the door behind him.

“Caleb!” she cries, leaping to her feet and pulling him into a crushing hug that knocks the wind out of him. Frumpkin meows loudly at his feet, pawing at his shoes.

“Hello, Jester,” he gasps, feeling his feet lift an inch or two off the ground momentarily before Jester releases him. “I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“We’re having a sleepover,” Jester says as she all but skips back to sit next to Nott again.

“We’re ordering pizza later,” Nott says from her spot cocooned in blankets. “What do you want on it?”

“Surprise me,” Caleb says absently before scooping up Frumpkin and heading back to his room.

He spends the next few hours with Frumpkin curled up in his lap like a furry cushion, distracting himself with homework and refusing to think about Caduceus or Mollymauk or how he feels about the entire mess of a situation. He contends he could be entirely misinterpreting the situation completely. 

He’s never been good at reading these sort of things as evidenced by the fact that it had taken Beau telling him to realize Molly had been flirting with him. There’d been something in Caduceus’ gaze those, not openly lascivious like Mollymauk but something softer, more open. Not that he knows how to react to either of them, though. He thinks there must be some sort of ethical restrictions on developing feelings for one of his students anyway. Or maybe that’s just psychologists.

He’s been staring blankly at his laptop screen, fingers unmoving on the keyboard, for fifteen minutes when Nott knocks on the door to tell him the pizza is there. He lifts Frumpkin carefully off his lap to lay on the bed to sleep and joins the two of them in the living room, eating absently and accepting a beer from Nott. There’s some horror movie playing on Nott’s laptop but he’s only half paying attention when Jester asks him a question. 

“Do you like Caduceus, Caleb?”

Caleb stifles a cough as he nearly gags on his food, setting his plate down as she peers expectantly over the rim of her cup at him.

“Do I like him?” he says, laying his hands in his lap to keep them from twisting together nervously. 

“Yeah,” Jester says, “like, isn’t he so nice and cool and fun?”

“Oh,” Caleb’s shoulders relax in relief. “Oh, yes he’s very nice and... cool and fun.”

“Right!” Jester says excitedly, turning away from the movie to face him fully. “You know, he was the one who convinced me to stick with being an art major. Cause, like, I was so worried I wasn’t good enough and stuff but he was like 'no, you should follow your dreams and everything will work out the way it’s supposed to'.” She takes on a deep, affected voice as she says it to mimic Caduceus' low drawl, though it doesn't have quite the same calming effect that Caduceus’ does.

“That does sound like him,” Caleb says, Jester beaming back at him.

“And you know,” she continues with a faintly mischievous expression. “He’s also single. And really tall and handsome and stuff, too.”

Caleb freezes with his beer raised halfway to his mouth.

“What are you implying, exactly?” he says in a carefully measured tone.

“Nothing!” Jester says innocently. “I’m just letting you know is all.”

“But wait, what about that Mollymauk guy?” Nott pipes up, also turning away from the movie to Caleb’s dismay. “I thought  _he_  was into you?”

_“What_?” Caleb practically squeaks, “How did you know that?”

“Caleb, please, I read those text messages,” Nott scoffs.

“ _Molly_?” Jester says, looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Oh, but he flirts with  _everyone_ , that's how he is. Are you sure it wasn’t  _regular_  Molly flirting?”

Caleb groans in exasperation. He wishes he could sink into the couch cushions and disappear.

“Yes,” Nott says, making a disapproving face. “He was sending Caleb  _very_ inappropriate text messages. Caleb, let me show her.”

“No!” Caleb cries, snatching his phone from the table as she reaches for it. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life all of a sudden?!”

“So you  _do_  like them!” Jester says accusatorially. “But wait, which one?”

“No one likes anyone!” Caleb shouts, throwing up his hands. “Can we please stop talking about this?” He’s sure his face is beet red, he feels likes it’s on fire. 

“Look,” he begins, getting to his feet. “I am their tutor and nothing more, regardless of what flirting may or may not have occurred," he adds quickly when Nott opens her mouth. "Can we please just drop it?”

Nott and Jester share a glance. They both look like they don’t want to end the conversation but they nod anyway.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, returning to his seat.

“Caduceus is pretty great though,” Jester mutters under her breath in a singsong voice, pressing her lips shut tight when Caleb gives her a warning look. 

The rest of the evening passes without incident, the three of them making most of their way through two more movies and half a container of Oreos before Nott and Jester fall asleep in a tangled pile of limbs and blankets, Nott snoring quietly. Caleb shuts Nott’s laptop and gathers up the trash and leftover pizza, heading to their tiny kitchen to put everything away. His phone buzzes in his pocket as he’s discarding the empty beer cans in the recycling bin.

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I got you some tea :)_

There’s a picture attached of the desk in Caduceus’dorm room, two small bags of loose tea leaves sitting on the surface. He’s trying to read the names on the packages when his phone buzzes in his hand and he almost laughs at how ludicrous his life has become when he sees who it’s from.

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _Beau said you like cats, look at this fucking cat Yasha and I saw!!_

The picture attached is of Molly and a tall, pale woman he doesn’t recognize squatting down in the snow behind a fluffy black cat that looks wholly disinterested in having its picture taken. Molly is sticking his tongue out and holding up his free hand in a peace sign, the woman next to him doing the same thing though her expression is as stony as the cat’s.

Caleb sets his phone down on the counter and drags his hands through his hair as Frumpkin pads into the kitchen looking for his supper. His winds through Caleb’s ankles, looking up at him and meowing.

“Frumpkin,” he mutters, picking up the cat and moving to pour him some food. “What is happening to my life?”

Frumpkin purrs and nips his fingers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said the chapters would be longer moving forward but that was when I was in the middle of writing chapter 8 which is twice this long and I’m a big dummy. I may update again this week because this chapter is kind of filler-y. I hope you enjoy it though! And thank you for the comments 😊


	5. Chapter 5

Caleb spends the next week throwing himself into coursework, trying simultaneously to avoid Molly and Caduceus even while having to meet with them both regularly. It works for the most part, Molly tells Caleb he feels confident in his essay and Caduceus manages to scrape a B on his next Chemistry quiz, though Caleb still feels an edge of panic when Molly sits so close their shoulders bump or Caduceus’ warm gaze lingers on him just a little too long.

January ends and February arrives in a blast of biting wind and heavy snow that shuts the campus down for a full day before the maintenance crews can clear paths for the students and staff between the buildings. Caleb spends the day bundled inside with Frumpkin reading and doing homework while Nott plods off through the snow to visit Jester.

The following evening, once the sidewalks are clear enough to be passable, banks of snow piled high around them, Caleb trudges from his apartment to Caduceus’ dorm with his scarf wrapped across his mouth and his bag slung over one shoulder.

Caduceus opens the door with his usual welcoming smile when Caleb knocks, stepping back to let him in and shutting the door behind him.

“I was a little worried you wouldn’t make it,” Caduceus says as Caleb gets settled, shrugging out of his coat and scarf and rubbing his half-numb hands together. “What with you not living on campus.” 

“There were a few rough spots,” Caleb admits, grimacing a the damp cuffs of his jeans from where he’d had to walk through deep snow not yet cleared from the sidewalks near his apartment. “But it wasn’t too bad.” 

“Here,” Caduceus moves to pick a mug from the desk to hold out to Caleb, steam curling steadily from the surface. “I figured you could use it so I wanted to have it ready with you got here.” 

Caleb accepts the mug mutely, warmth spreading across his palms and fingers as he cups it between his hands. 

“Thank you, Caduceus,” he says when he gets over the initial surprise at the gesture. “That’s very kind of you.” 

Caduceus shrugs, smiling warmly down at him. He has his hair pulled back in a loose bun, his goatee a little shaggier than it had been the week the before. He’s dressed in a soft looking cardigan and t-shirt along with a pair of dark sweatpants that hang loose on his narrow hips. All Caleb can think of is how cozy he looks, laid-back and relaxed like they’re about to have a movie night instead of a study session.

“Can I get you anything else?” Caduceus says when the silence stretches between them for a few long seconds. 

“No, thank you, this is plenty,” Caleb replies, holding up the mug and taking a small sip. It’s warm and faintly floral, one of the teas Caduceus had bought for him.

"Did I do a good job?" Caduceus says, nodding to Caleb's mug. "Picking something out?" 

Caleb hums in affirmation and Caduceus beams. 

"Give me just a second," he says, gesturing for Caleb to sit, "I was just watering the plants."

Caleb settles in his seat and begins rifling through his bag to pull out the folder he’s started keeping for Caduceus’ things as Caduceus moves to the other side of the room with the little pink watering can in hand.

"Alright, here you go," he hears Caduceus say quietly. He glances over his shoulder to watch him pouring water over the soil in one of the pots, a faint smile on his face.

"Drink up, little buddy, if you keep growing like this, you might bloom this year. Now,  _you_ need to stop trying to hog all the space." He tuts as he waters a flourishing pot of some kind of ivy that's spilling over the sides and beginning to creep up the pot next to it. "I told you, I'll get you planted outside with a trellis but it's too cold now so you're just going to have to share."

It's bizarre yet oddly endearing to watch him and Caleb can't stop himself from smiling as Caduceus moves about the pots chatting happily, occasionally plucking dead leaves or turning a plant to better face the light. He sets the watering can down when he's done and picks up his own mug before taking his usual spot on the bed.

"Everything copacetic?" Caleb says, unable to keep the teasing note out of his voice.

"Yeah, they're doing great," Caduceus says, sounding pleased and not seeming to pick up on Caleb's tone. 

“I'm glad to hear it," Caleb says more sincerely. "How was class today?” He glances at Caduceus as he says it, smiling when he sees him grimace. “That bad?”

“No, not bad,” Caduceus says, sighing. “I just wish you were teaching the class. I’d understand it so much better the first time how you explain things. I mean, I get it better than before but... you just really get how my brain works, I guess.”

Caleb hums, trying not to flush at the compliment. “Well, we’ll work through it together,  _ja_?” he says, patting Caduceus’ knee. 

They spend the next few minutes looking over the work Caleb had given him the previous week—Caleb proud to see he’d gotten all but two of the problems correct—before moving on to the new material Caduceus had learned over the past week. By the time Caleb glances at his phone to check the time, stretching and stifling a yawn, he’s surprised to find it’s already nearly seven o’clock. The sky outside has long since gone dark, the lamps along the sidewalk reflecting a faintly shimmering yellow glow off the snow. He glances at his empty mug, wondering if he can ask Caduceus to make him another cup before he leaves when Caduceus speaks first.

“I know it’s getting late,” Caduceus begins hesitantly. Caleb glances up to see him scratch absently at his chin, only half meeting his eyes. “But I was wondering if you might want to get a cup of tea with me? The tea shop I go to is just a few blocks down the street. Strictly non-tutoring related,” he adds hurriedly, “Just think of it as a friend buying another friend a cup of tea.”

Caleb considers the offer, feeling his resolve quickly crumbling at the hopeful look on Caduceus’ face. He opens his mouth to turn him down, closes it, swallows, and sighs.

“That would be nice,” he says honestly.

He’s being silly really, assuming Caduceus feels anything other than friendship towards him. And even if he did, Caduceus is kind and warm and Caleb knows he would regret stifling what could be a wonderful friendship. It’s exhausting, trying to tell himself he doesn’t enjoy Caduceus’ company.

“Honestly, I could really use another cup of tea,” he admits, holding up his empty mug. “You're getting me hooked on the stuff.”

“It is pretty great,” Caduceus agrees with a chuckle. He helps Caleb into his coat before slipping his shoes on as Caleb hangs his bag over his shoulder.

They make their way outside in companionable silence, the cold air still and quiet around them apart from the soft crunch of their footsteps in the snow. The sky overhead is a deep, liquid black, little specks of starlight poking through in spots between the clouds, fighting to outshine the glow of the city below it. 

Caleb finds he has to take three steps for each other Caduceus' easy, long-legged strides and he walks a little faster to match his pace. He hears Caduceus inhale deeply and glances over to see him looking up at the sky with a faint smile, his breath rising from his lips in a cloud as he exhales. One of the things Caleb has noticed about being with Caduceus is that, while he doesn’t talk much, he's rarely felt uncomfortable with the silence, finding even just his presence oddly comforting, like he's somehow managing to absorb the calm energy he seems to radiate.

“Do you enjoy the snow?” Caduceus asks when they’ve been walking for a minute or two in silence, Caleb tugging his scarf up over his ears to try and ward off the chill. 

“More that I’m used to it than enjoy it,” Caleb replies with a shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. ”I grew up a few hours from here so... this is the norm for me.”

“Really?” Caduceus says, sounding faintly surprised. “I guess with the accent, I assumed you were an exchange student,” he explains. “That and I don’t think I ever saw you around campus before this year.”

“Well, I was born in Germany,” Caleb says, “my parents and I moved here when I was eleven to take care of my mother’s parents after my grandmother broke her hip. As far as school goes, I did transfer here at the start of the year. I went to a local school closer to home for two years then started here when I got offered a full scholarship.”

“I thought you lived off campus though?” Caduceus frowns, glancing sideways at him.

“I do,” Caleb replies, “I can’t have my cat on campus. But I was lucky enough to find Nott’s ad when she was looking for a roommate. She used to be enrolled here but dropped out at the end of last year so it all sort of worked out for both of us. But my extra scholarships were running out and I needed rent money so...” he gestures to Caduceus with a shrug and Caduceus smiles.

“Well, I won’t say I’m happy you needed the money, but I’m glad it let us meet,” he says, flashing Caleb another sidelong look. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

Caleb nods, smiling as he pulls out his phone to show Caduceus his background image, which is still the picture of Nott and Frumpkin curled up together. Caduceus chuckles as Caleb returns his phone to his pocket.

“His name is Frumpkin,” he says. “Really, he is Frumpkin Two, the first Frumpkin I had in Germany when I was little but he died before we even moved here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caduceus says, reaching out to brush his hand briefly against Caleb’s arm.

Caleb shrugs. “It was a long time ago.” He pauses, glancing at Caduceus, who is not wearing a coat besides his cardigan and has his hands hanging loosely at his sides as they walk. “What about you? You seem at home in the cold.”

Caduceus hums, nodding. “I grew up in northern Maine so this is pretty normal for me. The cold never really affected me, either, I think it’s a firbolg thing.”

“I suppose being seven feet tall has its advantages,” Caleb says, glancing up at him.

“Makes showering a real pain though,” Caduceus sighs. “Oh, we’re here.” He comes to a stop, gesturing up at the sign of the tiny building they’re standing in front of.

“ _PositiviTea_ ,” Caleb reads aloud. “Clever.”

“I thought so,” Caduceus says, holding the door open for Caleb and following in after him. The shop is warmly lit, painted in tones of deep greens and grays with dark wood furniture, the far wall painted with the motif of large white and pink flowers and vines climbing up around the doors to the bathrooms and kitchen. The left side of the room is dedicated to the counter and register while the right side is lined with shelves of bags and tins of tea. The chairs look soft and plush, one corner just inside the door set up with large, multicolored beanbags instead of chairs.

“I can see why you like it here,” Caleb says, glancing around as he follows Caduceus to the counter. “It’s very... cozy.”

“Isn’t it?” Caduceus smiles at him and approaches the counter. “Can I have a cup of Darjeeling and whatever he wants?” He gestures to Caleb before stepping aside to allow him to order. 

“Oh, no, I can pay for my own,” Caleb says, reaching for his wallet.

“Nonsense,” Caduceus replies, waving him off. “I invited you.”

Caleb hesitates before conceding and pocketing his wallet again with a sigh. “Something without caffeine please,” he says to the teenager behind the counter, who half-glances at Caduceus when Caleb doesn’t elaborate.

“Green rooibos, I think,” Caduceus says. He squeezes Caleb’s shoulder before passing several bills to the cashier. “You’ll like it.”

They take seats near the front window to wait for their drinks and Caleb rubs his hands together absently, blowing on his numb fingers to try and bring warmth back to them.

“Here,” Caduceus says, scooting his chair closer and taking both of Caleb’s hands in his own before Caleb can protest. He’s taken aback by how warm Caduceus’ hands are against his own despite how long they’d been in the cold. His hands completely envelop Caleb’s own, his slender fingers gently wrapping around the backs of Caleb’s hands to press them together. His lifts his cupped hands to his mouth and exhales a warm breath between Caleb’s fingers, eyes focused on Caleb’s hands as he turns them over in his own and rubs circles over the pads of Caleb’s fingers with his thumbs. Caleb’s fingers tingle with pins and needles as the feeling gradually returns to them.

“Better?” Caduceus gives Caleb a questioning look, hands still covering his own.

Caleb makes a stifled noise of agreement and Caduceus smiles that same fond smile that makes him feel both anxious and warmed through to his bones.

“Like you said, being seven feet tall has its advantages,” Caduceus says as he releases Caleb’s hands and settles back in his own chair, seemingly unaware of Caleb’s inner turmoil.

The boy working behind the counter brings their tea to them in white paper cups and they accept them with thanks before heading back out into the still night.

“I’ll admit,” Caduceus begins when they’ve been walking for a half a block. “I had a slightly ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

Caleb stiffens, looking over to see Caduceus giving him an apologetic look. “How so?” he says warily.

“I wanted to thank you,” Caduceus replies. “For everything you’ve been doing to help me. I know I’ve said it before but you really are an amazing teacher. I don’t know how I’d make it through this class without you.”

“I’m sure you’d have figured it out,” Caleb says reassuringly. “You are a smart fellow.”

“I’m really not. Not with this stuff, at least.” He takes a drink of his tea, looking thoughtfully down the street. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your help.”

“Well, I’m more than happy to help,” Caleb says. He feels faintly embarrassed by the praise, though part of him is pleased to know what he’s doing has some positive effect.

“I also wanted to ask,” Caduceus continues, “do you liked... baked goods?”

Caleb frowns, looking over at him curiously. “That is a very odd question to ask.”

Caduceus chuckles. “I suppose it is. I wanted to bake something for you. As thanks,” he explains, “I was hoping for it to be a surprise but I didn’t know what sort of things you liked or if you were allergic to anything. I didn’t want to make something that would send you into anaphylactic shock.”

“No, I imagine that would be less than desirable,” Caleb says, smiling. “Besides, you don’t have to make me anything. I can’t imagine the dorm kitchens are very well equipped anyway.”

“They’re not, really,” Caduceus sighs sadly, his long ears drooping. “I was going to ask Jester to use her place, but I hadn’t exactly worked out the logistics yet. And it’s not a matter of having to do it, I want to do it,” he adds, smiling at Caleb.

“So baking is your other thing?” Caleb says. “Besides plants?”

Caduceus’ smile widens happily, ears lifting slightly. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, Beauregard certainly seems to enjoy it at the very least. Tell you what,” Caleb begins, “I’ll make you a deal. You can use my kitchen—it’s probably not as nice as Jester’s but it’s sufficient—but you let me help make whatever it is you’re making. I’m not a very good cook,” he admits, grimacing. “So I could probably use some practice.”

“Maybe I can tutor you,” Caduceus suggests, looking pleased at the prospect.

Caleb hums at the suggestion, smiling. He pauses to take a sip of his tea, warmth spreading through his chest. It’s lightly sweet and delicate and Caleb doesn’t know  _how_  he knew, but understands why Caduceus said he would like it.

“Just let me know what you want to make,” Caduceus says. “Maybe I can stop by Saturday morning?”

“That should be fine,” Caleb replies, quickly wracking his brain to make sure he had no prior plans. “And why don’t you surprise me? I’m not a picky eater.”

“More homework,” Caduceus mumbles, though he’s smiling when he says it. Caleb takes a drink of tea to hide his own grin, a fond warmth budding in his chest.

“You said your family lives in Maine?” he begins, picking up their thread of conversation from earlier when they lapse into silence. “Do you have a big family?”

“An older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister. Plus my parents, of course. But I’ve got lots of aunts and uncles, too,” Caduceus responds. He grins when Caleb’s eyes widen. “Yeah, that’s how most people react. It was never a lonely childhood, I’ll say that. My parents run a graveyard, though, and we lived on the property, so everyone else mostly just saw us as the creepy family who hung around dead people all the time.”

“A graveyard?” Caleb says, taken aback. “That sounds a little depressing, if I’m honest.”

“It could be,” Caduceus responds with a nod. “But I learned to adjust. You meet a lot of people at their most vulnerable when you spend half your life in a graveyard. And you learn to read people. What they need.”

“Is that what you meant when you said you have a talent for knowing when people aren’t eating well?” Caleb says, recalling their conversation from the previous week.

“Yeah,” Caduceus says a little sadly. “The problem with meeting people in that state is you start to pick up on the ones that aren’t taking care of themselves. Learn how to talk to them.”

“You are a perceptive fellow.” Caleb smiles and bumps his elbow lightly against Caduceus’. “It sounds like you probably made it easier for a lot of people. That’s commendable. I have to say though, I don’t think I’d be able to do it. Live in a graveyard, I mean.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Caduceus chuckles. “It was nice though. Quiet. There were lots of flowers and trees on the property so it’s where I really started getting into plants. What about you? What’s your family like? Any siblings?”

“No, just me and my parents,” Caleb says. “My father works for a dairy farm and my mother teaches kindergarten so nothing quite as glamorous as your family.”

“Ah, so that’s where you get it from,” Caduceus nods in understanding. “The teaching part I mean.”

Caleb is about to respond when he hears someone calling his name and he stops walking to squint through the darkness at the figure jogging towards them from the steps of the nearest building, hand raised in a wave. He recognizes the deep purple skin and jewelry studded horns when they pass under the next street lamp and he half-glances at Caduceus, who has stopped with him, looking faintly curious.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb greets when Molly slows to a halt in front of them, panting lightly and grinning. “Good evening.”

“Hey,” Molly says. “I was just coming back from Yasha’s place, what are you up to?” His eyes flick to Caduceus then down to the cups they’re both carrying and Caleb can see his smile waver slightly.

“Caduceus, this is Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Caleb says hurriedly before Molly can speak further. “He’s one of the other people I’m tutoring. Mollymauk, this is Caduceus Clay.”

“Really nice to meet you,” Caduceus says, extending his hand towards Molly, who ignores it, smiling coolly.

“It’s a little late for coffee, isn’t it?” he says, looking at Caleb and gesturing towards the cup in his hand.

“It’s tea,” Caleb replies. “Caduceus was kind enough to offer to take me to get some after our study session.”

“How generous of him,” Molly says with a smile that seems to lower the surrounding temperature a few more degrees. Caleb sees the pointed tip of his tail flick back and forth behind him like an irritated cat.

His expression softens a little and he takes a step closer to Caleb to grip his free arm lightly. “I didn’t get to tell you last night since school was closed, but I have something to show you tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Caleb says, eyes flicking to Caduceus, who’s watching their exchange with a serene expression. “What’s that?”

“Well, if I told you now, that would ruin the surprise,” Molly teases with a wink, voice dropping lower and fingers trailing up Caleb’s arm. His hand slides up over Caleb’s shoulder before running lightly down his chest and he curls his hands in Caleb’s scarf, adjusting it absently as he shifts even closer. Tugging lightly on Caleb’s scarf, he pulls him forward so he can put his mouth close to his ear.

“Let’s just say, I think I’ll deserve a reward for being such a good boy,” he murmurs, so close the curve of his horn bumps Caleb’s head. “So try and think something up before tomorrow night, hmm?”

He steps back, smirking faintly. “See you tomorrow, darling,” he says, tweaking Caleb’s scarf and winking again before throwing Caduceus a final dirty look and striding past them in the direction of his dorm.

There’s a few seconds of silence during which Caleb takes a long, steadying gulp of tea to try and calm his thumping heartbeat.

“He seems nice,” Caduceus says at last, sounding completely genuine, and Caleb has to stop himself from heaving a weary sigh with difficulty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so next chapter they WILL be getting longer, I mean it this time. I think the next three are each at least 6,500 words and chapter 9 is going on 5k and is only 2/3 done. Thank you sooo much for all your lovely comments, they really do make my day. I’m going to continue with the weekly updates moving forward so I have time to be a few chapters ahead. My current plan is for 22 chapters plus the endings. Thank you again for reading 😊


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if this REALLY falls under M but just to be safe! CW for underage drinking I suppose.

It’s with a vague sense of trepidation that Caleb knocks on Molly’s door the following evening, drumming his fingers on the strap of his bag as he waits for Molly to let him in. He’s wearing a wide, pleased smirk when the door swings inward, and Caleb feels like a lamb being led to slaughter as he steps inside and the door swings shut behind him.

“Good evening, Mollymauk,” he lets his bag drop to the floor and sheds his coat before turning to face Molly, flinching a little when he’s standing only a few feet away and holding a folded sheaf of paper towards him and grinning broadly. 

“What’s this?” Caleb says as he takes the paper from him warily and unfolds it. His eyebrows raise in surprise as he realizes he’s looking at Molly’s completed essay, a large red “ _A-_ “ scrawled across the top. He glances up at Molly, who’s watching him expectantly.

“Mollymauk, this is excellent,” he says earnestly, feeling himself smile as he quickly scans through the essay, “You should be very proud.” 

Molly shakes his head as Caleb hands the papers back to him. “This wasn’t me,” he begins, “this is because of you. You saw how horrible my notes were before. I wouldn’t have gotten this without you.”

He’s still smiling, but in a way that’s genuine and almost bashful rather than the usual confident smirk Caleb has seen him wear.

“Molly, I did not write that for you,” Caleb says. “You have yourself and the work you’ve put into improving to thank for that grade. I merely... facilitated.”

Molly’s smile widens.

“Well, then you did a great job of facilitating,” he says. He tosses his essay absently on his desk before turning back to Caleb with a familiar grin. “Which reminds me. I told you I deserved a reward for being such a good boy.”

His smile turns almost predatory, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth as he takes a step towards Caleb, who suddenly feels what he imagines a mouse feels like when staring down a hungry cat.

“Oh?” Caleb says, shuffling back a half-step only to bump into the edge of Molly’s mattress. One of the sheer silks flutters at the movement and drapes lightly over his shoulder.

Molly hums, stalking forward and stopping only when he’s so close to Caleb he can make out the faint line of dark makeup lining his eyes. Molly’s tail slides up Caleb’s ankle and curls loosely around his calf. His eyes flick down when Caleb’s throat bobs nervously and Caleb sees the corners of his lips twitch.

“What do you think I want?” Molly murmurs, meeting Caleb’s gaze again.

“I don’t know,” Caleb answers honestly. Of the many things he imagines Molly might ask of him, his brain cannot supply him with the most likely one.

Molly wets his lips absently, the forked tip of his tongue poking between his lips for a brief moment. Caleb can feel the heat radiating off him at this proximity, hear the soft tinkle of his jewelry with each minute movement of his head. Molly inhales slowly, lips parting like he's about to speak. He purses his lips together again after a few long seconds and exhales, looking resigned and shoulders drooping.

“Just let me buy you a drink,” he says in a brusque tone, unwrapping his tail from Caleb’s leg and taking a step back. 

“What?” Caleb says, nonplussed, taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor.

“A drink,” Molly repeats, taking a seat on the edge of Fjord’s bed and crossing his legs. “There’s a little place not far from campus the theater kids hang out at. If whatever his name is can buy you _tea_ —“ he makes a vaguely annoyed face, “—then I can buy you a beer.”

Caleb stares at him. Of the many possibilities of what Molly had meant he’d played out in his head over the past 24 hours, this had not been one of them.

"Oh," he frowns as he mulls over the request. "Aren't you underage though?"

Molly laughs, bright and indulgent, and reaches into his wallet to pull out something.

"Oh, darling, you give me too much credit," he says, holding up what Caleb recognizes to be a fake ID. "We can't all be as noble and law-abiding as you." He winks and slips the card back into his wallet, eyeing Caleb closely.

"Is that a yes?" he says, leaning back on his hands on Fjord's bed, the hem of his shirt sliding up his midriff. "It's just a drink between friends." His grin has returned, the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth as he watches Caleb. 

"One drink," Caleb replies, holding up his index finger.

Molly's smile widens and Caleb hopes he doesn't end up regretting whatever he just agreed to.

They make arrangements to meet outside of Molly's dorm on Friday evening and walk to the bar together before Caleb insists they get down to the reason he was there and do some actual studying. Friday evening he's been staring vacantly at his closet for nearly ten minutes when Nott walks past his room and pokes her head.

"What's wrong?" she says, stepping further into the room when Caleb makes a noncommittal noise.

"How are you supposed to dress when you're going on a date that is not a date but the other person might interpret it as a date so you want to make sure they don't?" Caleb gives her a pleading look. He's wearing Frumpkin around his shoulders as he always does when he's feeling stressed, occasionally reaching up to scratch him behind the ears as he purrs steadily.

"What?" Nott frowns and moves to stand next to him and peer up into his closet. "You're going on a date? With who?"

"No!" Caleb says, groaning. "The point is that it's _not_ a date and I want to make sure the other person knows that."

"Why would they think it's a date if you said it's not?" Nott says, frown deepening.

Caleb gestures vaguely, avoiding her eye when she squints up at him.

"Who is this other person?" she asks, tone suspicious.

Caleb clears his throat. "Mollymauk," he mumbles.

" _What_?"

Caleb winces.

"He asked to get a drink _as friends_ ," he rushes to add when Nott's eyes go wide. "He did very well on his essay and asked to get a drink to celebrate."  

"Caleb, you know that's not a good idea," Nott says warningly.

"You're probably right," Caleb sighs woefully. "But I did agree to go. I'm probably overthinking this."

He pulls a pair of dark jeans and a blue knit sweater worn with age from his closet and tugs them on. He slips on his shoes and turns to Nott, holding out his arms and grimacing.

“How do I look?” 

“Very handsome,” Nott says, sounding like an apprehensive parent.

Caleb sighs and plucks at the hem of his sweater doubtfully. “I am definitely thinking about this too much,” he mutters. “It’ll be fine.” 

He pulls on his coat and scarf, scratching Frumpkin under the chin and patting Nott on the head as he walks past her into the hall. “Don’t wait up, okay? I won’t be out long.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Nott calls after him. He raises his hand to indicate he heard her before stepping outside, hunching his shoulders against the cold.

He spends the ten-minute walk to campus trying not to let his imagination run wild. By the time he turns the corner to Molly’s dorm his nerves are on edge and he has to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

Molly is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, waving enthusiastically when he spots Caleb approaching. He jogs down the sidewalk to meet Caleb, grinning and flushed from the cold.

“I was half afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says breathlessly. He’s bundled tight in his multicolored coat and a bright teal scarf, a matching beanie pulled over his head. There are slits cut to accommodate his horns, which Caleb gestures at curiously.

“Are there hats that come that way?” He says. “Or do you have to customize them?”

Molly glances up and tugs down lightly on his beanie with a smile.

“There are customized tiefling hats you can buy,” he says, pulling a face. “But they’re so expensive and usually _hideous_. They've got these stupid snaps where they go around your horns. Truly awful. Yasha got this one for me and we just mangled it a little. Sometimes you work with what you’ve got. The real pain is trying to cut tail holes in all my pants.” His tail whips lazily back and forth, the tip curling out from the hem of his coat.

“Ready to go?” he asks, bumping his elbow against Caleb's cheerfully.

" _Ja_ ," Caleb replies, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his face and bowing his head against the chill as they set off down the sidewalk, their footsteps crunching quietly across the rock salt and snow still scattered across the concrete.

Molly practically bounces beside him as he walks, tilting his head back and inhaling deeply.

"You seem to be in a good mood this evening," Caleb observes, unable to stop himself from smiling when Molly beams at him.

"Of course I am," Molly says, knocking his shoulder lightly against Caleb's. "I'm with you." 

Caleb hitches his scarf up over his mouth and nose under the pretense of warding off the chill as his face prickles with embarrassment. Molly falls silent but Caleb thinks the curve of his lips turns faintly smug. They walk in silence for a few more minutes, during which Caleb keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers absently turning his apartment key over to keep himself occupied.

"It's just up here," Molly says when they reach an intersection, gesturing across the street to an old brick building with the words _Painted Lady Ale House_ across the marquee. There are pride flags hanging from the awning over the door, two large posters pinned to the wall, the first declaring _Local Drag Every Weekend!_ and _Queens Drink Free Thursdays!_  

"Ah," Caleb says as realization sinks in. 

"Ever been to a drag bar?" Molly says, grinning at the look of apprehension on Caleb's face.

Caleb shakes his head silently and Molly chuckles.

"Oh, darling, you're in for a treat," he says, grabbing Caleb's hand and pulling him across the street. "There's no show tonight," he begins when they reach the opposite sidewalk. "I wouldn't throw you to the wolves that soon. Besides," he continues, leaning close to Caleb and slipping his arm around his waist. "I don't want to share you just yet."

Caleb wets his lips nervously as Molly leads him to the door, waving at the bouncer, who glances at Caleb before giving Molly a pointed look. Caleb pretends he doesn't see it, bowing his head as they walk inside.

The interior is dimly lit with soft, multicolored lights that bounce and twinkle off the half a dozen disco balls of varying sizes hanging in the center of the room. The right side of the room is dominated by the bar, the gleaming surface reflecting the glow of the blue and pink and purple lights coming from the panels embedded along the wall behind it. A dozen or so tables take up the majority of the rest of the room, mismatched chairs scattered around them and little plastic pots with a variety of pride flags in them stuck in the center of each one. The opposite side of the room has a small stage situated against it, the wall behind the stage seeming to have a shimmery quality to it, which Caleb realizes after a few seconds is due to the long curtain of silver foil streamers hanging from floor to ceiling.

"Isn't it great?" Molly sighs fondly, arm still loosely resting around Caleb's waist.

"I can see why you would like it," Caleb says, thinking of Molly's tattoos and generally garish fashion sense.

Molly laughs, arm sliding from Caleb's waist so he can shrug out of his coat. He's dressed in a pair of dark, high-waisted pants and a thin, emerald green sweater that glimmers faintly as he moves, the hem cut in a way that Caleb can see a sliver of his midriff.

"Aren't you cold?" Caleb says, shivering as he pulls off his own coat and scarf.

"I make many sacrifices for fashion, Caleb," Molly says seriously. 

Caleb tugs at the hem of his sweater, suddenly self-conscious as he glances around at the other scattered patrons, most of which are dressed similarly to Molly.

"I feel underdressed now," he says, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Don't," Molly says, smiling fondly as he smooths his hands down Caleb's upper arms. "I think you look adorable." 

Caleb still keeps his arms tightly folded across his chest as he follows Molly to the bar, sliding onto one of the stools and shrinking in his seat. The bar is still relatively empty given the early hour and Caleb gave feel eyes on him as Molly waves for the bartender, who makes a delighted noise of recognition at the sight of him. Caleb glances up at the sound of approaching footsteps and blinks against the neon orange of the bartender's dress. They're a plump woman—man? Caleb suddenly feels woefully ignorant growing up in a place where the biggest amount of queer culture was a local coffee shop hanging a rainbow flag in their window for pride month—with a thick layer of makeup, long, false eyelashes and bright pink curls that clash spectacularly with their dress.

"Molly, you _shit_ ," they say, grinning as they lean across the bar to pull Molly into a crushing hug. "I thought you were busy this weekend with that party?" 

"That's tomorrow," Molly replies, propping his chin on his hand. "I heard the show got canceled, what happened?"

The bartender rolls their eyes. "Irena, the moron, she slipped on the ice and broke her ankle last night. I _told her_ not to wear those stilettos outside the way it's been but you know how she is."

Molly hums, nodding in understanding. 

"So, who's your friend?" the bartender says, tone faintly teasing as their gaze falls to Caleb, who smiles nervously.

"This is Caleb," Molly says and squeezes Caleb's shoulder. "He's new to all of this so please be gentle. Caleb, this is Venus."

"Hello," Caleb says quietly, arms still crossed over his chest.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," Venus coos, tapping Caleb lightly under the chin. "Relax, sweetheart, no one's going to bite you here. Expect maybe Molly," they add, winking, "if you ask him nicely." 

Caleb flushes.

"I'm so sorry," he pipes up before he can stop himself, "Can I just ask... do I call you 'she' or... I'm sorry, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Venus smiles and Molly laughs softly.

"When I'm like this," Venus says, gesturing to their dress and wig, "I'm a lady. But, darling, there are girls who are ladies in and out of drag. There's no right or wrong way to do it as long as you enjoy it. Then you've got Molly here, who's a devil no matter what he's wearing," she adds, patting Molly's cheek fondly.

"Wait," Caleb says, frowning at Molly, "do you...?"

"I dabble," Molly responds with a shrug. "Mostly I just enjoy watching the shows."

Caleb stares at him at this newfound information, his imagination whirring into overdrive.

"Why don't I get you kids a drink?" Venus says, glancing at Caleb expectantly.

"Um, just a beer please," Caleb mutters, still stuck on the idea of Molly in drag. 

"You already know what I want," Molly says, waving her off. 

"Yeah, I'll get you your gay drink," she mutters, rolling her eyes when Molly grins toothily at her.

Caleb fidgets in his seat, hands clasped together in front of him as his eyes scan the room absently. He catches Molly watching him, chin propped up on one hand and a faint smile playing on his lips.

"What?" Caleb says, nervously glancing down to make sure there's nothing on his sweater. Frumpkin has a penchant for curling up in his clothes and he's picked more cat hairs off them than he can count.

"Nothing," Molly replies, shrugging one shoulder. "You really look like a deer in headlights here," he continues in an affectionately teasing tone, "it's adorable."

Caleb exhales a nervous laugh, fingers twisting together on the bartop. There are pink and red confetti hearts scattered across the bar and he picks one up to turn it over in his fingers for something to do, frowning at it. His eyes go wide as he remembers that Valentine's Day was the day before and he feels the sudden urge to explain to every person in the bar what is going on.

Before he can open his mouth to say something to Molly, a foamy glass of beer is set down in front of him. He stares at it blankly as Venus gives Molly his drink, clucking her tongue in distaste as he accepts it with a pleased noise. There's a long skewer with pieces of fruit speared on it sticking out of the bright pink drink alongside a little paper umbrella. 

"What is that?" Caleb says warily as Molly takes a sip.

"No idea," Molly replies happily. "But it's delicious. Want some?" He holds the glass out towards Caleb, who shakes his head. Molly shrugs and takes another sip, plucking the skewer out to slide the cherry off with his teeth, winking at Caleb as he chews it.

"So," he says, setting his drink down and leaning towards Caleb expectantly. "Now that you’re not being forced to make me learn about history. Tell me about Caleb. I mean besides the fact that you're super smart and have like seven majors."

"Two," Caleb corrects him. He takes a sip of his beer, shrugging. "Erm, okay... I grew up in Germany and moved here with my parents when I was eleven. I spent two years at a local college and transferred here last semester on scholarship. And I also have a cat."

"You have a cat?" Molly says excitedly. "What its name?"

"His name is Frumpkin," Caleb says, pulling out his phone to show Molly a picture. 

"I pinned you for a cat person," Molly says as Caleb puts his phone away. "You don't look like a dog guy."

"I don't _dislike_ dogs," Caleb says carefully. "But... yes, I prefer cats."

"Is that why you live off campus? Your cat?" Molly says, stirring his drink absently with his straw.

Caleb hums, nodding, and takes another drink of his beer. "They don't let emotional support animals live on campus," he says. "But, I have a good roommate. I'm figuring it out."

"That's why you're doing the tutoring thing?" Molly asks. "For rent money?"

"More or less." Caleb feels himself relaxing minutely as they talk. It's nice talking to Molly when he's not being shamelessly flirtatious. "What about you? You are a sophomore, _ja_? Does your family live around here?"

Molly frowns as he regards the question, taking a long pull from his drink and tilting his head to the side as his nose scrunches up in consideration. 

"I don't know," he says slowly. "I don't really have a family, per se," he adds when Caleb gives him a questioning look. He sighs, setting his glass down. "A few years ago I was... in an accident. I don't really remember much from before. I get like... flashes sometimes but it's mostly just white noise. I didn't know who I was or where I belonged or anything like that. And no one came to claim me so..." he shrugs a little helplessly, "I ended up going to a home for queer youth in the city not too far from here. You know, one of those places that takes in homeless kids whose parents kicked them out. That's where I met Yasha. You haven’t met her yet, I don’t think. The guy who runs it, Gustav, got me on my feet and basically adopted me. He helped me and Yasha get our GEDs and then got us enrolled in school. And now here I am," he spreads his arms, smiling.

Caleb stares at him, dumbstruck. "Mollymauk," he begins quietly, "I am so sorry. I-I had no idea you went through all of that."

"Why would you?" Molly says, frowning. "Look, Caleb, I don't care what happened to me before or who I was before, I am who I am now and that's all that matters." He pauses, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. "I think that's why I hate history so much. All that focus on shit that happened hundreds of years ago just feels so... unnecessary. No offense to you, of course," he says hastily, reaching out to briefly touch the back of Caleb’s hand. 

"None taken," Caleb says weakly. Hot, biting guilt rises like bile in his chest and he grips his glass firmly to keep himself grounded as he digests everything Molly told him.

"Hey," Molly says gently, resting on hand on Caleb's shoulder. "I'm really not upset about it. So you shouldn't be either, yeah? And I don't want you to treat me any differently."

Caleb nods silently, staring into his glass.

"This is not the mood I wanted to set for this evening," Molly says, slapping his hand down on the counter and leaning across the bar to call Venus back. "We need tequila immediately."

He waves off Caleb's protests as Venus pours two full shot glasses, one of which Molly pushes towards Caleb before raising the other up in a mock toast.

"To the present," he says, grinning, "and an optimistic future." He downs the tequila, wincing at the taste and gesturing for Caleb to follow suit.

Caleb stares down into the little cup of clear liquid uncertainly before sighing and drinking it in one swift gulp. It burns down his throat and settles warm in his belly. He realizes vaguely that he hasn't eaten since breakfast out of nerves and tries not to think about how quickly the alcohol will hit his system because of it.

"Tomorrow," Molly says, taking a sip of his cocktail like he's trying to clear the taste of tequila from his mouth. "You are doing body shots." 

"Tomorrow?" Caleb says, frowning.

"Beau's party!" Molly cries, eyes widening. "She said she invited you!" 

"Oh, right," Caleb mutters. "She did."

"You _have_ to come," Molly says, reaching across the bar to grip one of Caleb's hands, expression pleading. "As much as it pains me to say it, Beau throws the best parties. Lesbians always do," he adds with an oddly wistful sigh.

"I'm not really a party person," Caleb says with a grimace.

"C'mon," Molly begs, "it'll be fun, I'll help you have fun, _pleeease_."

"Maybe," Caleb says, smiling when Molly pouts. His beer is nearly empty and he can feel the slow creep of alcohol into his bloodstream, the tension gradually seeping out of his muscles as they talk. The promise of only have a single drink has long since left his mind.

The bar slowly starts to fill around them. A few of the other bar patrons approach to talk to Molly, who they clearly know, and Molly introduces them to Caleb, who forgets their names before they're replaced with another pair of men who seem equally familiar with Molly. Venus brings him a second beer when he drains the first, watching Molly with a faint smile as he chats amiably, clearly in his element in charming everyone around him.

His phone buzzes on the bar top and he turns it over to read the new message on his screen.

 ** _Caduceus Clay:_** _this is your reminder to eat a nutritious dinner :)_  

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I’m sorry for missing lunch and for being so late, there was a horticultural emergency and I completely forgot to say something_

Caleb frowns down at his phone, reading the messages through twice before typing out a response.

 ** _Caleb:_** _What exactly does a horticultural emergency look like?_  

There's no response for a minute or two and he takes a swig of his beer as he waits. Then a picture pops up in the thread and Caleb clicks it to expand it. It's of one of Caduceus' plants, delicate-looking with small, dark green leaves, a single stalk rising up out of the dirt. There's what looks to be two popsicle sticks set as a makeshift stint near the based of the stem, the length wrapped in thin white surgical tape. 

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I accidentally knocked over my gardenia :(_

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: I'm hoping the graft works but I don't know if it will take_

 **_Caleb_** _: Did you perform surgery on a plant?_

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: Yes?_

 ** _Caleb_** _: That is... very cute_  

 **_Caduceus Clay_ ** _: I couldn't just let it die_

 ** _Caleb_** _: Well, I hope it pulls through._  

 ** _Caduceus Clay_** _: :)_  

 ** _Caduceus Clay_** _: So did you remember to eat?_  

Caleb feels a twist of guilt. He drums his fingers against the bar top for a moment before sighing and opening the camera on his phone. He flips it around and pulls a face at his own appearance. There's the barest of flush across his freckled cheeks, his eyelids drooping slightly from the slowly settling swim of alcohol in his brain. He raises his nearly empty glass to the camera in a mock toast and takes a picture, sending it to Caduceus before he can stop himself.

The little bubble pops up telling him Caduceus is writing after a few seconds and he can't help himself but stare at it apprehensively.

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: I'm not trying to sound like I'm scolding you because it's not my place, but you should really take your well-being more seriously, Caleb._

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: Please?_

Caleb fidgets in his seat. He can practically feel the solemn disappointment through his phone.

 ** _Caleb_** _: I know. I'm sorry._  

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: Don't be sorry._

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: I think you're going to do really amazing things, Caleb, I want to make sure you can get to where you need to be. And you can't do that if you don't take care of yourself first._

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: if it bothers you, I'll drop it, but I worry about you._

Caleb stares at the last two messages for a long time, jumping out of his reverie when Venus sets another beer in front of him with a wink and takes his empty glass away. He clears his throat and glances at Molly, who's deep in conversation with a tall, willowy man who keeps touching Molly's arm every time he laughs at something he says. Caleb feels a jolt of annoyance watching it. He takes a deep draught of his drink, setting the glass down a little harder than necessary and turning back to his phone.

 ** _Caleb_** _:_ _It doesn't bother me. I appreciate that you're trying to help me. I'm just garbage sometimes. I'll try harder._

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: You're not garbage._

 **_Caleb_** _: thank you for thinking so highly of me_

 **_Caleb_** _: and thank you_

 **_Caleb_** _: for caring_

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: :)_

 ** _Caduceus Clay_** _: I'll let you get back to your evening_  

 **_Caleb_** _: Good luck with your plant. I'm sure with your expert care it will be fine._

 **_Caduceus Clay_** _: :)_

 ** _Caduceus Clay_** _: Have a good night, Caleb. I'll see you tomorrow._  

 **_Caleb_** _: You too. Until tomorrow._

Caleb stares at the screen until it goes dark and sets it back on the bar. He's halfway through his third beer now, feeling pleasantly warm and hazy, though he's not sure how much of that is from the alcohol and how much is from his conversation with Caduceus, when Molly says his name and he tilts his head to the side to look at him and the newest person he's talking to, a red tiefling with sharp yellow eyes and oddly stunted horns.

"So _you're_ Caleb," the man talking to Molly says, smirking. "You're right, he is a little snack, isn't he?" He snickers when Molly smacks him on the back of the head, scowling. "You know, there are a lot of people mad at you for keeping him all to yourself. He's a hot commodity around here. But you would be too, I mean, you've got that whole twink librarian look do— _ow_!"

He glares at Molly, rubbing the back of his head. 

Caleb merely smiles, blinking sedately. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

"Hang on," the man says, peering closely at Caleb before glancing at Molly, eyes widening in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you two haven't—oh my god, Molly, you've been _domesticated_."

"Yes, thank you, goodbye," Molly says through gritted teeth, shooing the man away, wincing as he laughs. "Sorry," he mutters, glancing at Caleb and rolling his eyes. "Horrible gossips, all of them."

Caleb merely smiles benignly. He feels loose and languid, like an unwound spring, unbothered by strangers' scrutiny and oddly secure under Molly's watch. Molly gives him a long, considering look, absently turning the skewer for his now empty drink over between his fingers. He sighs heavily.

"Let's get you home," he says at last, slipping down off his stool and stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rides up his stomach, exposing the smooth, bare skin, and Caleb feels the sudden urge to reach out and run his fingers over it.

He doesn't, instead taking a final swallow of his beer before leaping off his stool, grabbing the edge of the bar when his head spins and he stumbles. Molly slips his arm around his waist to steady him, chuckling as he pulls out his wallet and tosses several bills on the counter. He helps Caleb into his coat and slips on his own before leading Caleb towards the door, calling out goodbyes as he goes. 

The cold air hits Caleb like a slap to the face as soon as they step outside. He winces, hitching his scarf around his ears and over his mouth and nose as they walk.

"Which way are you?" Molly says, halting a few steps away from the door and looking at Caleb expectantly. His arm is still loosely curled around Caleb’s waist. 

Caleb peers around, taking a moment to get his bearings, and feels a jolt of surprise when he realizes where they are.

"I only live just down the next block," he says. He points down the darkened street ahead of them. "At that building on the corner on the first floor."

"I can't believe you've lived this close and never come here," Molly says, clucking his tongue disapprovingly as they set off down the street. "I'm definitely bringing you back for a show someday." 

"Are you going to dress up too?" Caleb asks before he can stop himself. He's learned that alcohol seems to completely disable the filter from his brain to his mouth.

Molly smirks."Would you like me to?" he says coyly 

Caleb shrugs and Molly laughs quietly, his fingertips brushing lightly over Caleb’s waist in soothing circles. It doesn't take long for them to round the corner to Caleb's apartment building, pausing at the door while Caleb fumbles with his keys to unlock it and step inside. He glances back at Molly when he doesn't move, hesitating on the mat. 

"Are you coming in?" Caleb says, still holding the door open expectantly.

Molly grins and slips inside after him. The apartment is dark and quiet and Caleb wonders if Nott ended up getting called into work unexpectedly. He takes a few steps into the living room, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto the couch absently. There's the soft pad of paws on the carpet and he glances down to see Frumpkin trotting out of the hall towards him.

"Oh my god," Molly whispers, coming up behind him and peering over his shoulder. "Is that Frumpkin?"

Caleb nods, smiling when Molly crouches down and holds his fingers out towards Frumpkin, who sniffs them carefully for a few seconds before pushing his head against Molly's fingers and meowing.

"Who's a good kitty?" Molly says, petting over Frumpkin's head and down his back as the cat begins purring loudly.  

"You must be a good person," Caleb says, smiling faintly.

"How so?" Molly glances up at him with an amused look, one hand still scratching Frumpkin's ears.

"Frumpkin only likes good people," Caleb replies simply. 

Molly hums and pushes himself to his feet, smirking. He takes a half-step closer to Caleb, crowding him back against the wall, one hand settling on Caleb's chest and sliding up over his collarbone when Caleb doesn't resist.

"I hate to argue with your cat," he murmurs, so close Caleb can smell rum and pineapple on his breath. "But I can be _very_ naughty sometimes."

"Oh?" Caleb says, grinning. He feels pleasantly fuzzy and daring from the alcohol, wondering mildly why he was so opposed to this, to Molly, in the first place. Molly is attractive, he's known that since the first time they met, he's not blind. And the fog of liquor makes him doubt his own reasons—he can't think of any of them right now—for wanting to keep Molly at arm's length in the first place. He's tipsy and aroused and he can practically feel the desire rolling off Molly as he waits for a cue on what Caleb wants.

"Yeah," Molly purrs, his other arm draping around Caleb's shoulders, his fingers playing along the nape of his neck. "I can show you, if you want?" 

Caleb's eyelids droop as he tilts his head back into Molly's touch. Molly seems to take this as an invitation and lowers his mouth to Caleb's neck, lips barely brushing against his throat, and Caleb lets his eyes fall closed fully, a shiver running down his body at the sensation. He wonders if Molly can feel the steady hum of his blood against his lips.

There's a soft click and light floods the room, too bright against Caleb's closed eyes and making him squeeze them shut tighter as Molly's heat is suddenly gone as he steps back from him. 

"Who are you?" Molly says, sounding irritated.

"Who are _you_?" Caleb hears Nott all but hiss. He groans and forces his eyes open to see Nott standing in the doorway to the hall, looking livid, recognition dawning on her face. "Mollymauk! What are you doing to him?"

"Nothing now, thanks to you," Molly grumbles under his breath, flashing Caleb a beseeching look. 

"Nott, I'm fine," Caleb assures her. He sees her eyes bulge at the slight slur of his words and she points an accusatory finger at Molly. 

"He's drunk!" she shouts. "And you were going to... _do stuff to him_." 

Molly rolls his eyes.

"I'm drunk too," he says, folding his arms across his chest. "And I wasn't doing any _stuff_ he didn't want. What kind of asshole do you think I am, exactly?"

"The kind that gets my roommate drunk and tries to force him into... into sordid trysts he's not interested in!" Nott snaps, balling her fists at her side. 

Molly barks out a laugh. 

" _Sordid trysts_?" he echoes, grinning and looking to Caleb, "Caleb, darling, I don't think your roommate thinks very highly of me." 

"Nott, everything’s fine," Caleb mumbles, starting to feel the creep of anxiety wheedle its way back into his brain in the stark light. He turns to Molly, grimacing apologetically. "You should probably go."

Molly opens his mouth like he wants to argue but doesn't, merely sighing in acceptance.

"If that's what you want," he says, low enough that Caleb knows Nott won't here him. "Will you come to the party tomorrow?" he adds hopefully, fingers brushing lightly on the back of Caleb's hand.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to embarrass myself again so soon," Caleb mutters, heat prickling the back of his neck.

Molly smiles and squeezes his fingers briefly before releasing them. "You didn’t embarrass yourself,” he says. “I had fun tonight. I hope you’ll come.” He turns to Nott, smile tightening. "So nice to meet you."

Nott scowls suspiciously but doesn't respond. Molly gives Caleb one final regretful look, reaches down to pat Frumpkin on the head, and slips out the front door into the night air.

"Don't," Caleb says, holding up his hand when he hears Nott inhale to speak. "Please, I don't need a lecture right now, Nott." He rubs his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyelids for a few seconds, white lights popping in his vision when he opens them.

"I'm going to bed," he mutters, clicking his tongue for Frumpkin to follow him as he walks back the hall to his room and collapses fully clothed onto his mattress. He stares at the ceiling for a long time, hearing Nott's door open and close quietly at some point.  

He wonders what Molly thinks of him after what just happened, after everything that happened throughout the course of the evening. Does he expect him to pick up the next time they see each other? Does he, Caleb, want them to? He’s not even sure himself anymore. He thinks about the look in Molly’s eyes, that heady longing that makes Caleb itch under his skin.

But then he thinks of Caduceus and the soft, affectionate smile he wears when they’re together that makes something entirely different stir in Caleb’s chest. The way Caduceus worries after him with genuine concern without making him feel ashamed for needing the extra nudge sometimes. They're like opposite sides of the same coin that’s spinning on its end so fast he can’t differentiate between them. And even if he could, he still doesn’t think he’d know what to do.

He remembers he's meeting with Caduceus tomorrow and groans into his pillow in frustration. His brain feels like it's been knotted and snarled around itself so many times his skull aches. He just wants to sleep until he can figure out what he's supposed to feel and do and want. Sleep finally takes him at two in the morning, but it doesn't help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments! They really do mean the world to me. I’ve got chapter 9 of this finished and am working on 10 so I will continue with the weekly updates. Have a lovely week and don’t forget to check out the Kickstarter for the VM cartoon!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew boy that episode last night. I'll be out all day tomorrow so early update this week!

Caleb wakes up to Frumpkin pawing persistently at his cheek, meowing hungrily when he finally forces his eyes open.

"Yes, I'll get you your breakfast," he grumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes and groping in the sheets for his phone to check the time.

There are two messages on his lock screen and he blinks a few times to clear his vision, squinting against the weak sunlight filtering through the curtains.

**_Caduceus Clay:_** _I'm going to be there around noon if that works? I need to stop by the store for a few things first. Don't forget to eat breakfast! :)_  

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: I'm texting you again to tell you to please come to the party tonight! Also to make sure you're not too hungover. And also to say I really wish your roommate hadn't shown up ;-Y_

Caleb stares at the messages for a few seconds as the previous night's events come back to him in stark clarity.

"Shit," he mutters, slumping back into the mattress and closing his eyes. His head doesn't ache horribly but his mouth is bone dry and there's a dull throbbing pain against the back of his skull making it just hard enough to think that he contemplates going back to sleep for a few hours. 

He feels a hot thread of arousal at the memory of Molly's lips on his neck and he groans in dismay, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyelids and resolutely ignoring his hardening cock. Frumpkin swats at his hair, meowing irritably. 

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Caleb mumbles, forcing himself into a sitting position and wincing as he adjusts himself. He checks to make sure Nott is not in the hall before padding to the kitchen to feed Frumpkin before heading into the bathroom to take an icy shower, which both clears his head and cools his arousal.

He pulls out his phone, toweling his wet hair absently as he heads to the kitchen to make coffee, and types out responses to both Caduceus and Molly. 

**_Caleb:_ ** _Noon is fine, I'll see you then, let me know if you need more directions. I'm about to eat now._

**_Caleb:_** _I'm not too hungover, just a headache. I think I'm going to be there._  

Molly responds almost immediately with a string of excited emojis and exclamation points and Caleb can't help but laugh quietly. 

"What's so funny?"

Caleb looks up to see Nott coming in from the hall, eyeing him suspiciously as she digs a box of cereal out from the cupboard.

"Nothing," Caleb says evasively.

Nott makes a doubtful noise but doesn't say anything further as she sets about making her breakfast. Caleb busies himself with pouring a cup of coffee, waving Nott off when she shakes the box of cereal at him. He's exceedingly thankful she isn't bringing up last night's events.

"You need to eat," she says, narrowing her eyes at him. "I know you didn't eat yesterday."

Caleb sighs and picks up an apple from the bowl on the counter, taking a bite from it as she watches him. He considers taking a picture of it to send to Caduceus but decides against it, already feeling guilty for not keeping his promise to eat the previous night.

"Satisfied?" he says, swallowing.

"Not really," Nott replies but returns to her cereal. They eat in silence for a few minutes, Caleb glancing at his phone discreetly when it buzzes in his pocket.

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: thinking about you last night ;-Y_

There's a picture attached and Caleb glances at Nott before clicking it open, nearly dropping his phone as it fills his screen. Molly is in bed in the picture, in a similar position to the first picture he'd sent Caleb. His face is flushed and damp with sweat, hair rumpled and expression lax, eyelids drooping. His lips are quirked up in a dazed smile, one finger dragging along his lower lip, his hand dripping with—

Caleb shoves his phone in his pocket, heart hammering in his chest and heat rushing to his face.

"What was that?" Nott says sharply, sitting up in her seat and staring at where Caleb's phone disappeared into his pocket. "What is that face for?"

"Nothing," Caleb exclaims, taking a step back from their tiny table away from her.

"It was not!" she says accusingly, leaping up from her seat. "Give me your phone!"

"No," Caleb says, stumbling backward and turning to walk away from her, heart still racing.

"Caleb!"

He hears her footsteps behind him and takes off at a sprint into the hall towards his room. Despite her tiny stature, she is faster than him, practically leaping on him and tripping him up around the knees to send them both toppling to the ground. She wrestles his phone from his pocket, dancing out of his reach with a triumphant shout when he pushes himself to his feet and makes a grab for it. He watches her unlock it, cursing silently at the fact that he gave her his passcode, and blanches as he watches her expression go from smug to confused to horrified.

"What the _fuck_?" she shrieks, flinging the phone towards Caleb like it tried to bite her.

He fumbles it for a moment before catching it against his chest. He's starting to worry his face might spontaneously combust from embarrassment and he's half wishing that it would to put him out of his misery.

"That's disgusting!” Nott shouts, nose wrinkled, Caleb thinks her face would be green if it wasn't already.

"Well, you weren't supposed to see it," Caleb replies a little coolly, not meeting her eye.

"Were _you_?" Nott asks, looking at Caleb's phone like she's afraid it might attack her. "Did you ask him to send... _that_?"

"Well, no," Caleb mutters, squinting at a crack in the wall to have something to focus on and wondering if he could manage to squeeze his body through it to escape.

"Did you..." Nott sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. " _Want_ it sent to you?"

Caleb doesn't respond. He doesn't know how to because he doesn't know how he feels about it in the first place.

"I... don't know," he mutters eventually.

Nott makes a quiet noise of distaste.

"Look, Caleb, I'm not going to tell you what to do," she says. "But, I've heard about that Mollymauk and I don't think it's a good idea for you to get involved with him. Jester said he flirts with everyone and is always fooling around with different people. I don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

"I know," Caleb says quietly. "But I don't think he's as bad as you make it out to be. Really," he insists when Nott purses her lips doubtfully and gestures to his phone. "He comes on a little strong but I do not think he is a bad guy."

"Maybe not," Nott concedes, "but bad or good isn't the point, it's whether or not he cares about you or just cares about getting in your pants." Caleb cringes at her candor.

"Besides," Nott continues more kindly, "what about that Caduceus guy? Jester said he's really nice and sweet and that he speaks very highly of you. Much better than some oversexed tiefling," she adds under her breath.

"Caduceus talks about me?" Caleb says, frowning. "How do you—when?"

"All the time, according to Jester," Nott replies. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a few seconds before holding it out for Caleb to read the conversation currently pulled up between her and Jester.

**_Jester Lavorre:_** _Nott, he is so smitten, it's adorable (´_ ⌣ _`ʃ_ ƪ _)_  

**_Nott:_** _What did he say??_  

**_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _"Do you think Caleb likes chocolate? Or is that too boring? Blueberries are on sale but they're out of season right now. Jester, you like baked goods, which one accurately conveys appreciation towards someone keeping you from failing chemistry?"_

**_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Hang on there's more!! So I said "Caduceus!! You're so cute! Do you like him?? (_ ≖ _ᴗ_ ≖ _)" and he said "of course I like him, he's very likable :)"_

**_Nott_ ** **:** _!_

**_Jester Lavorre:_** _!!!!!!!!!_

"See!" Nott cries when Caleb reaches the end of the conversation and gives her a dubious look.

"Nott, I think he just meant... you know what, never mind," he sighs, passing her phone back. "Caduceus is very nice and I enjoy spending time with him as well. And I'd really rather prefer if all of you would stop trying to interfere with my personal life."

Nott has the decency to look abashed, ducking her head sheepishly. "Sorry," she mutters.

"It's okay. I know it comes from a good place," Caleb sighs. He tucks his phone into his pocket, trying not to think about the picture or how the hell he's supposed to respond to it.

"I need to clean the kitchen," he says, moving past Nott down the hall back towards the kitchen. "Could you tidy the living room a little?"

"Why?" Nott says, trotting after him.

Caleb sighs and braces himself before responding. "Caduceus is coming over. We're baking something apparently."

"Really?" Nott says, sounding pleased. "What are you making?"

"I'm not sure," Caleb replies with a shrug. "He's coming over at noon so I just don't want the place to look like a truck ran through it when he shows up.”

“Oh, come on, we’re not that messy,” Nott protests, though she falls silent when Caleb pauses by the couch to hold up a half eaten piece of cold pizza sitting on the table from the night before. There are little teeth marks on the crust where Frumpkin had clearly been gnawing on it.

“I was hungry last night!” she says defensively. She sighs, pulling a wry face. “Fine, I’ll help you clean.”

“I appreciate it,” Caleb says, patting her once on the head before moving to the kitchen, ignoring her grumbling.

He grimaces at the sink full of dishes, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up as he goes to work on them. When he’s finished he runs a wet cloth over their chipped counter tops before moving to the bathroom to empty Frumpkin’s litter box, scowling when the cat immediately uses it as soon as he’s poured in fresh litter.

“Couldn’t have done that two minutes ago?” he asks, huffing when Frumpkin simply cocks his head and blinks up at him, scattering litter across the linoleum as he covers his mess.

“You’re on thin ice,” Caleb calls after him when he leaps out of the box and bolts down the hall.

He glances at his phone when he’s finished cleaning Frumpkin’s mess, tossing the bag in the trash and considering himself in the mirror as he washes his hands. His beard is starting to look scruffy and unkempt not having shaved in so long. He runs his hand over his jaw, tilting his head to the side with a scrutinizing look.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles, digging out his razor and shaving cream with a resigned sigh.

When he walks back into the living room ten minutes later, running his fingers absently over the smooth skin, Nott is just putting away the vacuum. She stops when she sees Caleb, blinking in surprise.

“You shaved,” she says plainly.

“I did,” Caleb replies as he plops down on the couch and snaps for Frumpkin to crawl onto his lap. “I was getting tired of looking like an aspiring lumberjack. I don’t have the arms for that anyway.”

“Mhmm, sure,” she says, smirking in clear disbelief. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that _someone_ will be here in ten minutes.”

“So, what, I cannot shave without having an ulterior motive now?” Caleb says, throwing up his arms in irritation.

Nott snickers and Caleb folds his arms across his chest, scowling petulantly.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Nott all but sings, nose turned up smugly as she leaves the room.

Caleb huffs and unwinds his arms so he can pet one hand absently down Frumpkin’s back. His mind wanders to the picture still unanswered on his phone and he feels his face warm. How is he supposed to respond to that? Does Molly think he wanted something like that sent to him? _Did_ he want it sent to him? Exactly what signals was he giving off last night that made Molly think it was a completely normal thing to do? Or is that, as Jester put it, just how Molly was?

He’s still musing what to do when there’s a knock at the door and he jumps to his feet automatically, Frumpkin glaring at him from his new position on the floor. Caleb scoops him up, mumbling an apology, and goes to open the door.

“Good afternoon,” he says, head tilting back automatically to look up at Caduceus' face. He's still a little thrown off by just how tall he is, long-limbed and lanky but still proportionally broad through his shoulders. It makes Caleb feel vaguely self-conscious about his own gangly frame.

"You shaved," Caduceus says by way of greeting, breaking Caleb from his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yes," Caleb replies, running his hand absently over his jaw. "I was starting to feel scruffy."

"It suits you," Caduceus says, smiling.

"Thank you," Caleb mumbles, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Is this Frumpkin?"

Caleb looks up to see Caduceus nodding to Frumpkin, who's curled up in the crook of Caleb's arm watching Caduceus with large, yellow eyes.

" _Ja_ ," Caleb says, happy for the change of subject. "Frumpkin, meet Caduceus."

Caduceus grins and reaches his hand out for Frumpkin to sniff warily before bumping his nose against his fingers and allowing Caduceus to scratch him under the chin, chuckling.

"He's cute," Caduceus says, leaning down a little so he can get closer to Frumpkin, rubbing his thumb over the crown of Frumpkin’s head. Frumpkin cranes his neck up and bumps his nose against Caduceus' with a curious chirrup and Caduceus' nose scrunches up with a quiet laugh.

"I think he likes you," Caleb says, smiling faintly. "Would you like to hold him?"

"He won't mind?" Caduceus replies, looking up at Caleb, who realizes suddenly just how close he is, his pink eyes bright and hopeful. His eyelashes are so pale, he hadn't realized before how long they are, fanning lightly across his cheeks when he blinks.

"Caleb? Would he mind?"

"No," Caleb says hurriedly, flushing and clearing his throat as he passes Frumpkin into Caduceus' waiting arms, where he immediately curls into the crook of his elbow, purring contentedly.

"Oh, could you...?" Caduceus glances behind him at the canvas tote bag sitting on the sidewalk Caleb hadn't noticed.

"Of course." Caleb picks up the bag, surprised by its weight, and follows him inside. "What is all this stuff?" He says, hefting the bag in his arms and peering down into the contents.

"Well, I didn't know what you had," Caduceus admits, hand petting absently down Frumpkin's back. "So I tried to cover all the bases."

"I mean," Caleb pulls a salt shaker out of the bag and holds it up, "I do own _salt_. I'm not that bad of a cook. To be honest, I'm a little offended you think I am." He grins when Caduceus laughs, shrugging.

He leads Caduceus into the kitchen and hoists the bag onto the counter to unpack it, pursing his lips and giving Caduceus a deadpanned look when he pulls out bags of flour and sugar. Caduceus smiles sheepishly in response.

"Well, now that you've bought me an entire grocery store," Caleb says when he's laid the contents of the bag out on the counter. "What exactly are we making?"

"I don't like to brag," Caduceus begins, lowering Frumpkin to the ground and moving to wash his hands. Frumpkin gives them both mildly offended looks and trots off into the hall. "But I do make a pretty mean brownie. No illicit ingredients involved," he adds when Caleb quirks an eyebrow.

Caleb nods, tossing a hand towel at Caduceus' head and watching it flop onto his shoulder. "I think that's something even I could handle, as hopeless as I apparently am."

Caduceus rolls his eyes fondly as he dries his hands.

"Now, did you bring cooking implements too?” Caleb begins, biting back a smirk. "Because usually I just construct my own out of old cans and aluminum foil."

"Alright, smart guy," Caduceus mutters, brandishing the towel with a faux threatening look that sends Caleb into a fit of laughter.

"Kidding, kidding," Caleb says, still chuckling as he roots through the cabinets for their chipped mixing bowls and mismatched measuring cups, which he passes to Caduceus.

Caduceus rolls up the sleeves of his loose cardigan, humming quietly to himself as he sets about measuring flour into one of the bowls.

“Do you... have a recipe I can follow?” Caleb says, frowning as his eyes sweep over the counter top.

“Don’t need one,” Caduceus replies, tapping the side of his head. “All up here. Can you get me two eggs?”

“I am amazed you gave me the credit of owning eggs but not salt,” Caleb says as he moves to the fridge to comply, bumping accidentally into Caduceus in the tiny space as he does.

“I have substitutes if you didn’t have them,” Caduceus replies, the corner of his lips twitching when Caleb huffs and sets the eggs down on the counter with as much force as he can without cracking them. He deliberately bumps his elbow against Caduceus’ arm as he reaches across him for another bowl.

“Whoops,” he says, grinning when Caduceus’ hand jostles and some the oil he’s measuring drips across his fingers.

He carefully cracks the eggs into a bowl, smirking to himself as he does. He stills when slick, wet fingers smear down the side of his face. He turns to Caduceus in disbelief.

“Whoops,” Caduceus says with no remorse, smiling.

“You are treading a fine line, my friend,” Caleb says warningly, snatching the hand towel up to wipe the oil off his cheek.

Caduceus merely smiles indulgently as he takes the eggs from Caleb and dumps them into the bowl with the rest of the ingredients before pushing it towards him.

“Mix this, please. Don’t over-mix them though,” he says, squeezing past Caleb to turn on the oven. “Baking pans? Or should I fashion one from an old boot?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Caleb scoffs, absently stirring the mixture in the bowl, “the heat would melt it long before anything cooked. In the cupboard beside the stove. No, the right one.”

Caduceus squats down to dig through the cupboard.

“You know, I’m sure you get this constantly but I have to ask to satisfy my own curiosity.” Caleb sets the bowl aside and leans back against the counter. “Do you play any sports?”

Caduceus laughs, making a triumphant noise when he pulls a glass dish out of the cupboard, wincing a little as he pushes himself to his feet.

“No, not a sports guy,” he says, grimacing, “too violent. And I’ve got a messed up knee from when my sister pushed me down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, from when she _what_ ,” Caleb says incredulously.

“Eh, it was _mostly_ an accident,” Caduceus explains, as if that makes it any better. “It was a long time ago but we were arguing about something and she pushed me and I tripped and...” he shrugs noncommittally. “Some metal screws and two years of physical therapy later and it was pretty much healed. Still twinges sometimes. And I can tell when it’s going to rain so, that’s a plus.”

Caleb stares at him in disbelief.

“You are unflappably optimistic, aren’t you?” he says, mildly impressed.

“Makes life easier, I’ve found.” He gives Caleb a small, private smile.

“Do you not get along with your sister, then?” Caleb asks. Caduceus had only mentioned his siblings in passing previously but it hadn’t sounded like there was any ill will between them.

“Oh, yeah, she’s great,” Caduceus says fondly. “A real piece of work. But great. She actually lives nearby but she’s been in LA for work for a couple months. She should be coming back soon though, she’s got to finish wedding plans.”

“She’s getting married? When?”

“End of April,” Caduceus replies.

“Well, perhaps I will meet her. Oh, no, not at her wedding,” Caleb says hurriedly when Caduceus cocks his head questioningly. His face warms at the implication. “I just meant that if she’s coming back, maybe I will meet her. You know, if she is ever on campus,” he finishes weakly.

Caduceus is still giving him a curious look and Caleb is grateful for the oven choosing that moment to beep to indicate it was preheated.

Caleb scrapes the batter into the pan and slide it all into the oven, leaning back against the counter and watching Caduceus set a timer on his phone.

“I feel like I didn’t contribute much to that,” Caleb says with a considering frown.

“Oh, we’re not finished,” Caduceus replies as he pockets his phone. He picks up one of the two remaining mixing bowls and opens the freezer to set it in among the scant contents. He empties half a bag of chocolate chips in the other bowl and holds it out to Caleb. “Microwave please.”

Caleb does as he’s told, giving Caduceus a questioning look as he does.

“Whipped cream,” Caduceus responds, pointing at the freezer. “Ganache,” he points at the humming microwave. “I take baked goods seriously. I have to when Jester is my friend.”

“She does seem to have a sweet tooth,” Caleb muses, thinking to the few times Jester had been over, once happily consuming half a gallon of ice cream between her and Nott during one of their horror movie marathons.

The microwave dings and Caleb stirs the now melted chocolate before passing the bowl to Caduceus, while upturns half a container of cream into it along with a pinch of salt and stirs it methodically.

“I could get used to having my own kitchen,” he says a little dreamily, peering around Caleb’s tiny galley kitchen, the table pushed against the far wall under the single window with two chairs crammed around it. “It’s nice not having to fight with a dozen other people over who gets to use the stove.”

“Well, like I said,” Caleb begins, peering around Caduceus at the glossy mixture in the bowl he’s still absently stirring. “If you teach me how to cook you’re welcome to use it.”

“That’s very generous of you.” Caduceus smiles and holds out the spoon towards Caleb expectantly.

Caleb opens his mouth automatically, humming at the taste and licking his lips absently as Caduceus takes the spoon back and pops it into his own mouth without a second thought, pulling a contemplative face.

Caleb stills as it hits him how comfortably domestic it all feels. Caduceus reaches around him to drop the spoon in the sink and Caleb is suddenly hyper aware at how close he is, his arm brushing against Caleb’s chest as he draws back.

“Do you have a whisk?” he says as he pulls the mixing bowl out of the freezer and pours cream and sugar into it.

“Oh. Yeah,” Caleb mutters, still feeling off-balance. He digs through the drawers to find a whisk, holding it up and staring at the bowl as Caduceus slides it towards him.

“What do I do?” he says blankly.

“Mix it,” Caduceus replies. “You’re putting air into it to make whipped cream. The bowl being cold helps keep it from collapsing.”

“Ah.” Caleb takes the bowl in one hand and begins mixing it slowly.

“It’s going to take all day doing it like that,” Caduceus says with a soft chuckle. Caleb freezes as Caduceus crowds the space behind him, his chest warm against his back and his chin brushing the top of his head.

“Here,” Caduceus says kindly, take Caleb’s hand in his own and adjust his grip on the whisk. He tilts the bowl to the side and covers the back of Caleb’s hand to demonstrate how to briskly stir the cream, large bubbles immediately beginning to float to the surface as he does.

“See,” Caduceus says pleasantly, his loose hair tickling the tip of Caleb’s ear as he leans over his shoulder to flash him a smile.

Caleb grunts and bows his head, focusing his attention on his hands and trying desperately not to think about how warm and tall Caduceus is against his back. Caduceus steps away, taking the warmth with him and Caleb lets himself relax, swallowing to wet his dry throat.

His arms starts to ache after a few minutes and he pauses to turn and hold the bowl out to Caduceus for inspection. Caduceus leans down to peer into it with a considering look.

“Is this okay?”

Before he can answer, there’s a loud crash down the hall and they both turn to look as Frumpkin comes bolting into the kitchen, eyes wide and clutching something in his mouth.

“Frumpkin!” Nott shouts angrily, her footsteps scurrying down the hallway. “Bring it back!”

Frumpkin skids on the linoleum a little before finding traction. He spots Caleb and runs towards him, leaping towards his outstretched arms and knocking the bowl out of his hands, sending its contents splattering across the floor and cabinets, though the majority of it ends up on Caduceus’ face, his clothes, his hair.

“Frumpkin!” Nott growls, finally rounding the corner to the kitchen, the snarl fading from her face at the sight of Caduceus standing dripping on the linoleum with a faintly surprised look.

“I am so sorry,” Caleb breathes, mortified. He glances down at Frumpkin where he’s purring happily in his arms, gnawing on one of the rubbery earpieces from Nott’s headphones. Caleb fishes it out of his mouth, ignoring his reproachful look, and sets him on the ground, tossing the piece to Nott, who catches it guiltily.

"I am _so_ sorry," Caleb repeats as he toes Frumpkin away from where he's now licking cream from Caduceus' shoe.

"Sorry," Nott calls from the doorway, looking sheepish.

"It's fine, really," Caduceus says calmly, straightening up and grimacing a little as a glob of whipped cream plops onto his shoulder from his hair.

"You can use our shower and I'll get your clothes washed," Caleb says as Caduceus swipes away some of the cream smeared across his cheek. "I'd loan you some of mine but I'm pretty sure none of it will fit."

Caduceus chuckles and sticks his thumb in his mouth, humming at the taste of cream and sugar on his tongue.

"On the positive side, I taste delicious now," he says. He picks the bowl up from where it landed on the floor and swipes his fingers along the inside, scooping up the remnants of cream from the bottom and stepping closer to Caleb to hold his hand towards his mouth. "What do you think?"

Caleb stares at the cream-coated fingers with mild disbelief, glancing up at Caduceus to see him smiling benignly down at him.

"O-oh, well, ah—," he splutters, feeling his face and ears redden.

"No use letting it all go to waste," Caduceus says, holding his hand out insistently. "It's good, I promise."

Caleb swallows thickly. He can feel Nott staring at them from the doorway still. Frumpkin has returned to licking Caduceus' shoes. He wets his lips almost subconsciously before leaning forward and closing his mouth around Caduceus' fingers.

He lets out a pleased sound at the taste before he can stop himself, feeling his cheeks burn so hot he's surprised his face hasn't ignited yet. He tries not to think about how large Caduceus' fingers are, long and slender and slightly rough against the tip of his tongue.

"See?" Caduceus says as Caleb pulls back. "You did a good job."

He pauses, smiling and reaching for Caleb, who freezes, only to swipe his thumb over the corner of Caleb's mouth, pulling it back with a smear of cream on it. Caleb watches, wide-eyed, as Caduceus sucks his thumb into his mouth with a satisfied noise.

"You should take a shower," Nott practically shouts from the doorway, making Caleb jump. She's staring at the two of them with a look somewhere between disbelief and mild disgust.

"At least let me clean this up," Caduceus says, gesturing around at the mess splattered across the counter and floor.

"No, no, I'll get it," Caleb says, waving him off. "Nott, can you please show him where the bathroom is? Nicely," he adds under his breath as she continues to glower at him.

She grumbles but acquiesces, flashing Caleb a look over her shoulder that tells him they're not done with what just happened. The second they're both gone Caleb clings to the edge of the counter as his knees wobble dangerously. He takes a few deep breaths, glancing at his reflection in the microwave, his own beet red face staring back at him.

"What are getting yourself into, Widogast?" he mutters and scrubs a hand down his face. He digs through the drawer for a rag and begins wiping the counter and floors clean. He's rinsing the rag in the sink when he hears Nott return, half-glancing at her as she stops in the doorway.

"What the hell was  _that_?" she says incredulously.

"Were you nice to our guest?" Caleb says, wringing the rag out before continuing wiping down the counter tops.

“Yes, he’s taking a shower," she says, waving him off, "but that doesn’t answer my question!”

“We were baking and Frumpkin made a mess,” Caleb replies simply.

“You two were practically having _sex_!”

“Nott, that was not sex.” Caleb rolls his eyes, bending down to scrub the floor clean.

“Well whatever you call it it was disgusting,” Nott says with a scowl.

“I didn’t realize you were so homophobic,” Caleb says, suppressing a grin. "Weren't you trying to hook me up with him an hour ago?"

“Well that was when I thought he was nothing like Mollymauk! He’s… salacious!” She's pacing now, brow furrowed in a deep frown and Caleb knows Jester is going to be getting an earful from her later.

“He is not salacious," Caleb says with a sigh, pushing himself to his feet and tossing the rag into the sink. "He meant nothing by that, I just...”

“You just what?” Nott says, rounding on him, eyes bulging. 

“Nott," Caleb begins calmly, "regardless of what he did or did not mean by it, Caduceus is a very kind and special person and what I do with him is none of your business, remember?” 

Nott scowls. 

“I need to get him a towel,” Caleb mutters, pushing past her into the hall towards his bedroom. He digs through the basket of unfolded laundry Nott had left there the night before, pulling out a towel and pausing before he gets a second one. He rifles through his dresser, coming up with a t-shirt he’d gotten volunteering at an event for a local animal shelter the year before. It’s at least two sizes too large for him. 

Nott is standing outside his door when he steps back into the hall, arms folded defensively across her narrow chest. 

“Are you finished meddling?” Caleb says dubiously. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” she mutters, padding after him towards the bathroom. 

“I’m not going to climb into the shower with him, Nott. You don’t need to follow me.” 

Nott flushes but otherwise ignores him. 

Caleb knocks gently at the door, pressing his ear against it to hear the sound of running water when there’s no response. He cracks it open just enough that he can poke his head in, a soft cloud of steam seeping into the hall as he does. 

“Caduceus? I brought you some towels. And, um, I have this shirt that might fit but it might be too—“ 

He halts as the water turns off and the curtain pulls back and Caduceus steps out onto the rug, humming quietly and pushing his sopping hair back off his face. His eyes blink open and land on Caleb, widening slightly. 

“Towels,” Caleb all but squeaks and flings the towels towards him before slamming the door and leaning back against it, though not before the image of Caduceus, naked and dripping wet, steam rising off him, is burned into his retinas. His heart is hammering in his chest, heat prickling across his face and stirring in his stomach. 

He’d let his eyes wander. He couldn’t help it. He’d never considered himself inadequate so far as certain things go but even that brief glance told him Caduceus was much larger than him even now. He squeezes his eyes shut and immediately regrets it as his brain supplies the image of Caduceus’ cock in vivid detail. His own dick twitches with interest and his mouth waters at the sudden thought of trying to take something so large in his mouth or...elsewhere. 

He slaps himself hard on both cheeks. _Inappropriate_ , he screams at himself internally. God, he needs to do something to stop himself getting worked up every time he’s even vaguely attracted to someone. Having a roommate has made his opportunities for... personal endeavors far and few between and it’s starting to make him stir-crazy. 

“What the hell just happened?” Nott says. 

Caleb jumps, having forgotten she was there. He prays she cannot read his thoughts on his face. 

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “Nott, don’t, what are you—“ 

He tries to wrestle her back as she leaps for the door and manages to press her face up against the gap along the side before Caleb wrenches her away, though the look on her face is enough to tell him what she saw. 

“Caleb,” she hisses fervently, taking his hands on her own and gripping them tight. “You _cannot_ date him.” 

“Nott, I—“ 

“Caleb, he’ll kill you with that thing!” 

Caleb almost laughs, feeling faintly hysterical at the entire situation. 

“Just—stop!” he says sternly. “That’s enough, Nott. Please.” 

She stares at him, jaw set, for a long moment before huffing and stalking off to her room. Caleb takes his fingers through his hair, letting his head thump back lightly against the closed door and trying not to think about Caduceus on the other side. He realizes he’s still clutching the shirt in one hand and swears quietly. He turns and braces himself, hand raised to knock on the door only for it to open inward. 

He looks away instinctively, praying the blush isn’t obvious on his face. He realizes from his peripheral that Caduceus is dressed from the waist down, a towel slung around his shoulders. 

“I am so sorry about that,” Caleb says, looking up into Caduceus face and refusing to let his eyes roam elsewhere. 

“No big deal,” Caduceus says with a shrug. “It’s just skin.” 

“Right,” Caleb mutters. “Oh, um, I don’t know if this will fit but this is the biggest shirt I have,” he continues apologetically, holding the shirt out to him. “It’s way too big for me, they ordered the wrong size so maybe it will work?” 

He keeps his eyes averted as Caduceus takes the shirt from him, turning around and trying not to think about the fact that Caduceus is half-naked not five feet away from him. 

“Well...” Caduceus says after a minute, sounding doubtful. 

Caleb turns around and snorts indelicately, stifling a laugh into his hand. 

“A perfect fit,” he says, voice shaking with amusement as he feels the tension leave his shoulders. 

The fabric is so tight across Caduceus’ torso he’s surprised a seam didn’t pop pulling it on. He can see the faint lines of his rib cage outlined beneath it, at least three inches of his bare torso visible, the sharp dip of his hips and a line of soft-looking pink hair visible where they disappear below his waistband. 

“You’re a cruel man, Caleb,” he says, making a sullen face and grabbing the hem of the shirt to wrestle it off before Caleb can stop him. He grunts quietly as he struggles to pull it back over his head and Caleb’s stomach gives a little swoop of interest at the sight of his bare torso for the second time in ten minutes, though this time he can’t stop himself from letting his eyes linger. He’s thin and lanky, stomach almost curving inward slightly, but in a way that looks lean and lithe rather than unhealthy. Caleb can see now where the line of hair goes up from his waistband to the gentle dip of his navel, more hair dusted across his chest. 

His damp hair is mussed when he finally gets the shirt off, wincing as he rolls his shoulders. He tosses the shirt at Caleb, who catches it automatically. 

“Would you like me to wash your clothes?” he says, forcing the words out and keeping his eyes carefully fixed on Caduceus’ face. 

“Nah, I just used the sink,” Caduceus says with a shrug. “No reason to waste all that water. Do you mind if I hang out here while they dry though?” 

“Of course not,” Caleb replies. “I’m not going to send you out in the cold like that.” He gestures limply to Caduceus’ bare torso. 

There’s a bright, musical sound from Caduceus’ pocket and he perks up. 

“They’re done,” he says, holding his phone up. 

“Oh, right,” Caleb mutters, having completely forgotten the oven was still on. “I’ll just, um... I’ll be right back. You can wait in my room if you’d like, it’s the door on the right. Make yourself at home.” 

He heads to the kitchen, only half paying attention as he flips off the oven and opens the door to reach inside. He withdraws his hand with a hiss of pain as his bare fingers touch the hot pan.

“Idiot,” he mutters, sucking on the tips of his fingers as they sear with pain. “Stupid, _stupid_ —“ he shoves his hand under the faucet and leans against the counter, eyes closed, as icy water runs over the reddening skin. He tugs an oven mitt on the other hand and pulls the pan out to set it on the stove. He’s still wincing as he digs through their drawers for the band-aides and burn ointment he’s kept there since his last disastrous attempt in the kitchen. 

“Moron,” he grumbles, smearing ointment across his fingertips and wrapping them each roughly. “You are so fucking _stupid_.” 

He digs a plate and knife out of the cupboards, shutting the doors with a little more force than necessary, and cuts a square from the pan, careful not to burn himself again. He drops the plate outside of Nott’s closed door as a peace offering, knocking softly before heading to his own room. 

Caduceus is facing away from him when he enters, perusing the ever-growing stacks of books piled high in the far corner of the room. The angular lines of his shoulders and back shift as he leans down to read one of the titles, his fingers sliding down the spine. 

Caleb clears his throat quietly and Caduceus straightens and looks back at him. 

“You have a lot of books,” he observes, waving his hand absently at the tottering stacks. 

“I like to read,” Caleb replies simply. 

Caduceus hums, picking up the top book from one of the piles—a yellowed copy of _The Metamorphosis_ in its original German—and flicks through it. 

“I’ve never really been the best reader,” Caduceus says, shutting the book and running his fingers absently over the cover. “I always lose focus.” 

“Perhaps you are just reading the wrong books,” Caleb says. “Although, to be fair, that one is in German so I would not recommend starting with it.” 

Caduceus chuckles and lays the book down. “Maybe you’re right.” He looks at Caleb and his brow furrows in concern. “What happened to your hand?” 

“Oh. Burned myself,” Caleb says with a grimace, holding his hand up. 

“Are you okay?” Caduceus takes a few steps towards him, hand half raised as if to reach for him. 

“ _Ja,_ ” Caleb responds. “It’s my own fault for not thinking to use a damn oven mitt.” 

The corners of Caduceus’ mouth turn down in a frown. He closes the last few feet between them and carefully takes Caleb’s hand in his own, turning it over and examining his bandaged fingers. Caleb winces automatically, but Caduceus’ touch is exceedingly gentle, sure not to brush the actual burns. The skin around the bandages is red and raw and Caduceus grimaces sympathetically. 

“I’ve got an aloe plant in my dorm but I guess that’s not much help now,” he says regretfully as he lets Caleb’s hand drop back to his side. 

“I’ll be fine,” Caleb says dismissively. “You should have seen the first time I tried cooking for myself. Did you know that the handle of cast iron pans also gets hot when you use it?” 

Caduceus inhales sharply through his teeth, blanching. 

“Yeah,” Caleb mutters, hand itching with phantom pain. “I couldn’t hold a pencil right for two weeks. Ask Nott, it wasn’t pretty. I think all my endeavors in the kitchen are doomed to end in disaster.” 

Caduceus chuckles. “We’ll fix that,” he says.

Caleb is suddenly struck by how close he is. He tries not to think about the fact that he is still bare-chested. In his bedroom. With a scant foot between them. 

There’s a rapid knock at the door and Caleb jumps and takes a step back as they both turn to see Nott stick her head into the room.

“Caleb,” she says sharply.

“Yes?” Caleb says warily, preparing himself for some form of admonishment.

“I changed my mind,” she says. She holds an empty plate up and glances at Caduceus before giving Caleb a pointed look. “You’re going to have to take one for the team.”

She ducks back out of the room without another word and Caleb hears her footsteps heading down the hall to the kitchen. Caduceus glances at him curiously and Caleb sighs and shakes his head.

“Don’t ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love clichéd shit. Won't lie, I'm super pumped to post chapter 8 next week it's my favorite one so far. I've got through chapter 11 done now and hope to finish two more next week if I can. Thank you all for reading and for your lovely comments they are so so appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little early this week :)
> 
> CW for drug use ((it’s weed))

When Caduceus leaves an hour later, finally fully clothed and making Caleb promise he'll eat a decent meal, Caleb heads to the kitchen and stares blankly at the contents of the refrigerator.

"Did Caduceus leave?"

Caleb glances over his shoulder at Nott as she enters the kitchen.

"Just a few minutes ago, yeah," Caleb mutters, grabbing a container of leftovers and giving them a dubious sniff before shrugging and dishing a fork out of the drawer. He drops into a seat and picks absently at the contents of the bowl.

Nott cuts herself another brownie, ignoring Caleb's look of disbelief, and sits across from him.

"I would like to try one, too, you know," he says as she pops a piece into her mouth. "I mean they _were_ meant for me."

"You snooze, you lose," Nott sings.

Caleb rolls his eyes and returns to his own food.

"By the way," Nott says, jabbing a finger at him. "I wasn't kidding earlier. You need to date him and let him move in and cook for us all the time."

"I'm not dating someone because of their baking ability, Nott," Caleb mutters.

Nott scowls and shoves the rest of the brownie into her mouth, chewing angrily. She swallows, licking the crumbs off her fingers.

"So, are you coming with me to the party tonight or not?" she says.

"I guess," Caleb says with a noncommittal shrug.

"Mollymauk is going to be there, isn't he?" she says, brow furrowing.

"That's what he said." Caleb stands to toss his dishes into the sink, stretching absently.

Nott _hmph'_ s but doesn't say anything further.

"I'm going to get some homework done," Caleb says as he glances at his watch. "When are we leaving?"

"Ehh, nine-ish?" Nott says, rocking her hand back and forth in an unsure gesture. "I'll let you know."

Caleb raises a hand in a fleeting wave of acknowledgment as he leaves, clicking his tongue for Frumpkin to follow. He holes himself in his room for the next few hours finishing up the remainder of his homework for the weekend, only leaving later in the evening to get himself something to eat at the thought of Caduceus' disapproval if he didn't. He picks absently at one of the brownies as he types up an essay for his Linguistics class, making a pleased noise as the taste melts across his tongue.

He tugs on a sweater when Nott knocks at the door just before nine o'clock, slipping on his shoes and following her out into the surprisingly warm evening.

As they walk, they chat absently about Caleb's classes and the most recent bar brawl Nott had witnessed. It's only a fifteen-minute walk to Beau and Jester's apartment, but even in the short distance, the surrounding buildings change from plain and faintly neglected to tall, elegant brownstones with wrought iron fences surrounding the tiny gardens.

"I still can't believe Jester's mom is renting her a whole house," Nott grumbles as they approach the home at the end of a long row of identical ones, separated by the dozen or so people milling about outside on the stairs and sidewalk and many bright pink, white, and red balloons tied along the fence.

"I see Jester was in charge of the decorations," Caleb mutters, Nott snickering next to him.

"Nott! Caleb!"

Caleb glances up and sees Jester breaking away from the group on the stairs and run towards them, waving. She pulls Nott into a tight hug, giving Caleb a similarly crushing one before stepping back and beaming at both of them. She's dressed in a bright red dress covered in little white hearts, white flowers woven around her horns.

"I'm so excited you came, Caleb!" she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Do you guys want a drink? Beau and I made punch."

"Is there booze in it?" Nott says as they follow Jester towards the house.

"Of course," Jester says with a roll of her eyes. "But I made some without if you want, Caleb. I don't like to drink so I just drink that."

"No, I'll drink whatever Nott is drinking," Caleb says, ducking his head as they walk up the stairs and he passes Molly's half-orc roommate, who does a doubletake when Caleb passes.

Jester leads them inside, the heavy thud of music immediately drowning out all other noise the second they step across the threshold. The lights are dim inside, cast in a faintly pink glow as there are pieces of gauzy pink fabric thrown across the lampshades of any bulb left on. There's a long table against the wall in the entry dominated by a huge punch bowl full of slices of fruit and some noxious pink liquid, stacks of red plastic cups covering the remainder of the surface.

Jester pours them each a cup and Caleb takes a large gulp to try and calm his nerves the second it's in his hand. It's sweet, almost cloyingly so, and he can't taste the alcohol in it, which, more than anything, tells him he needs to be careful drinking it.

"It's good, right?!" Jester says excitedly, watching his face for a reaction.

"I prefer whiskey," Nott says, pulling a face at her own cup. "But it's still good," she says hurriedly when Jester's face falls a little.

Caleb looks around the room absently, tapping his fingers nervously against the side of his cup and willing himself not to feel overwhelmed as people brush past him on their way through the house. This is not his first choice of activities and he finds himself almost automatically searching for Molly if only to see a familiar face.

"Hey, Caleb?"

Caleb glances down at Nott as she tugs on his sleeve.

"If I go outside with Jester, will you be okay?" Her gaze is softened with concern but Caleb can see the half-glance she makes towards the door.

"Yeah," Caleb says, nodding and forcing a small smile as panic flares in his chest at the thought of being alone with so many strangers. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be fine."

"Beau is in the kitchen if you want to hang out with her," Jester cuts in. "Or you can hang out with us, if you want!"

"No, no, I'll be fine," Caleb says, gesturing towards the door. "Go. I'm okay, Nott, really," he adds when Nott looks faintly worried.

"If you're sure," she says slowly. She pats him on the arm before allowing Jester to tug her back outside, leaving Caleb alone. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath, swallowing another mouthful of punch before meandering down the hall in the direction of the living room where the music is loudest. There are twenty or thirty people crammed into the space, some chatting against the wall while others dance, lights flashing red and pink against one wall in time with the music. 

He's considering fighting his way across the room to the kitchen to find Beau when he hears his name and turns to see Molly waving frantically to him from the other side of the darkened room, grinning brightly and clutching a red plastic cup in his other hand. He starts making his way through the crowd of people towards Caleb, who begins walking towards him so they meet in the middle of the room. Molly is still beaming toothily when he reaches him. His eyes flick over Caleb’s face with mild surprise.

“You look different. You shaved,” he adds when Caleb gives him a questioning look. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the low thump of music filling the room.

“Oh, yeah.” Caleb runs his hand automatically over his jaw.

“I like it,” Molly says. His grin returns full force and he bounces a little on the balls of his feet. “You came!”

“I said I was coming,” Caleb responds, eyes sweeping briefly up and down Molly before he can stop himself.

He’s still smiling, bright and giddy, and Caleb can’t help but be thrown at how it contrasts his appearance. His eyes are lined with dark makeup that makes the deep red glow like hot coals. His cheekbones shimmer faintly silver, as do the curves of his bare shoulders. He’s dressed in his usual combination of sinfully tight pants and tall boots along with a loose, sleeveless shirt with artful slashes cut into the fabric along the lower half, exposing thin strips of his stomach. There are a few extra baubles hanging from his horns, one of them dangling a fine chain between his horn and his earring, and Caleb can see a few tiny black hearts swinging from it.

“Yeah, well, I was starting to think you changed your mind when you didn’t respond to me this morning.” Molly sticks his lower lip out in a pout and moves half a step closer to him. “Didn’t you like my picture?”

“I, um, I did not know how to respond to it,” Caleb replies honestly. He flushes at the thought of the unanswered picture still on his phone.

“Oh?” Molly says, smirking and stepping even closer to Caleb, crowding into his space. “Did it get you that hot and bothered?” He reaches his hand out to trace his fingertips over the inside of Caleb’s wrist, leaning closer so he can lower his voice, his lips nearly grazing Caleb’s ear. “Did it get you off or are you saving that for the real thing?” His voice is thick with suggestion and Caleb tightens his fingers around his cup as something inside him stirs with interest.

Molly pulls back, grinning.

“We can talk about that later,” he says, tone full of promise. His fingers curl loosely around Caleb’s wrist and he nods his head back in the direction he’d come. “Come on, I want to introduce you to Yasha.”

Caleb stumbles after him, carefully balancing his cup to keep it from spilling and muttering apologies as he bumps into several people.

“Yasha, this is Caleb,” Molly calls when they reach the far end of the room. Caleb follows his gaze and feels his eyes widen as they land on the woman Molly is addressing.

The single picture he’d seen of her where she’d been crouched down did not prepare Caleb for how tall she actually is. She’s not nearly as tall as Caduceus, but somehow commands far more presence than him with her dark dreadlocks and thickly muscled arms folded across her broad chest.

“Hello,” she says simply, eyeing Caleb up and down with an unreadable expression.

“Hello,” Caleb responds, “it’s nice to meet you.”

Yasha grunts in response, eyes leaving Caleb’s face and roving across the crowd instead. Caleb notices she’s not holding a drink.

“Do you not drink?” Caleb says, desperate for some topic of conversation to cut the awkwardness.

Yasha’s eyes flick back to him. “I can’t. I have to watch him,” her head nods to Molly, who laughs and punches her lightly on the arm in a way that exudes familiarity. Caleb thinks he sees the corner of Yasha’s mouth twitch.

“She likes to think she’s my babysitter,” Molly says with a fond roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry though,” he adds, lowering his voice so only Caleb can hear. “I’m good at slipping chaperones.” He winks slyly. 

Caleb drains the rest of his drink in two unsteady gulps. 

“Oh my god, what happened to your hand?” 

Caleb lowers his cup and gives Molly a befuddled look, which is met with one of concern. He glances down at his hand still wrapped in bandages, the pain mostly having faded since that afternoon.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Caleb says. “I just burned myself a little. Being stupid.” 

Molly clicks his tongue sympathetically. 

“Well, you know what will make it feel better?” he says, emptying his own cup and clapping his hands together. “More booze. I’ll be right back.” 

He snatches Caleb’s cup from his hand and slips off into the crowd towards the punch bowl, leaving Caleb alone with Yasha, who watches Molly leave for a moment before absently looking across the crowd again.

“So,” Caleb begins, raising his voice slightly so she can hear. “I, um—Molly said the two of you have known each other for some time.” 

Yasha looks down at him with that same flat expression.

“Almost four years,” she responds, nodding. 

“He is an, ah, interesting man,” Caleb says with a laugh, expecting her to join if she’s spent that long with Molly.

Her eyes narrow slightly though instead, head tilting to one side. 

“He’s an amazing person,” she says almost coolly. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“O-oh, no, I didn’t mean—not in a bad way,” Caleb stammers nervously. “I also think he is, um, a-a really great guy, he is very, um, forthright.” 

Yasha gives him a long, considering look and Caleb tries not to squirm. After what feels like ages, her lips curl up into a small smile and she huffs out a punctuated laugh.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “He knows what he wants.” 

Caleb stifles a sigh of relief, feeling vaguely like he’s just passed some unspoken test. Yasha doesn’t say anything else in the minute or two more it takes Molly to return with their drinks, but the silence between them isn’t nearly as tense.

“Here you go, darling,” he says, pushing Caleb’s now full cup back into his hand. “Don’t drink too fast, this stuff can be dangerous if you’re not paying attention.” Despite this, he quaffs half his own drink in one long gulp, smacking his lips with a pleased hum. 

His eyes flick to the far end of the room and Caleb sees them narrow, lips curling in a faint sneer, but when Caleb glances over his shoulder, who or whatever he’d seen is apparently gone, the doorway empty. Molly’s smile has returned when Caleb looks back at him. He gives him a questioning look which Molly either seems to ignore or miss as he’s asking Yasha something Caleb doesn’t catch over the noise in the room. He takes a gulp of his drink, feeling faintly anxious again.

“Caleb?" 

Caleb snaps his eyes back to Molly as his fingers brush Caleb’s arm.

“Hmm?” Caleb can feel the alcohol just starting to creep around the edges of his brain, pleasantly fuzzy.

“I said, do you want to dance?” Molly says, nodding behind Caleb to the people clustered together and dancing to the thudding music. 

“Oh, no, I’m not—I mean, I don’t really dance.” He feels a slight pang of guilt at Molly’s disappointed expression. “I’m just not very good at it,” he adds by way of explanation. “Especially not this kind of... dancing.”

“Yeah,” Molly sighs almost dreamily. “I guess it’s more sweaty grinding than anything else. And there are much better ways to do that that involve fewer clothes.” 

Caleb takes another hasty gulp of his drink to hide his darkening flush.

“Oh!” Molly says suddenly. “I know what we’re doing.” He downs his drink and gestures for Caleb to do the same, taking his cup and handing both of them to Yasha, who accepts them wordlessly.

“C’mon,” Molly urges, taking Caleb’s uninjured hand in his own and tugging him towards the doorway leading to the kitchen. 

It’s nearly twice the size of Caleb’s kitchen, with gleaming appliances and a long table against one wall. The chairs are pushed to the side and the table bare save a salt shaker, a bowl of lime wedges, and a few mismatched shot glasses.

“You got him to come,” Beau calls over the music from where she’s leaning against the counter with a bottle of tequila clutched in one hand. There are a few other people milling around the room, some of them glancing over with mild interest. “I owe you five bucks.” 

“He doesn’t know what we’re doing yet,” Molly replies. He turns to Caleb with a sly grin. “Unless you’ve guessed it?”

“Body shots?” Caleb says, remembering their conversation from the night before, mouth suddenly dry.

“Mm, so clever,” Molly drawls, trailing one finger down Caleb’s cheek. “The question is, do you want to be on the bottom or should I?” He smirks teasingly, teeth flashing. 

“I suppose I don’t have the option of neither?” Caleb replies, though he’s only half-serious, the alcohol in his system making him feel much more reckless than usual and quickly stifling the little, apprehensive voice in the back of his brain that tells him that getting involved with Molly is a bad idea.

“Oh, darling, of course you do,” Molly says, expression softening a little before turning to a pout. “But where’s the fun in that?” 

“Well then, why don’t you...” he trails off, miming taking off his shirt and nodding to the table.

“Mm, kinky,” Molly murmurs before peeling his shirt over his head without a second thought and tossing it aside. Caleb’s gaze sweeps the now familiar tattoos before darting over Molly’s chest and stomach. He’s lithe and lightly muscled, the lines of his abdominals clear but not deeply defined, the waistband of his pants hanging low on his hips to reveal the angle of his hip bones.

He leans closer to Caleb and mutters, “You’re welcome to take a closer look later, if you want,” before pulling away and lying down on the table. “Beau, pour the man a drink.”

He plucks a lime wedge from the bowl and places it lightly between his teeth. He smirks up at Caleb, lips turned up around the lime and eyes daring. Caleb hesitates only for a moment before snatching the salt shaker from the table as a sudden surge of alcohol-fueled confidence strikes him.

 _Fuck it_. 

He sprinkles some of it along Molly’s clavicle, then along the curve of his pectoral, the dip of his stomach just below his ribs, and, finally, the spot just inside his hip bone directly above the waistline of his pants.

He glances up to see Molly watching him, eyes dark and hooded, before throwing back the shot of tequila Beau places into his waiting hand. It burns down his throat and into his stomach and he leans over to lick the line of salt off Molly’s collarbone, letting his teeth catch lightly before moving down Molly’s chest.

He hears Molly inhale shakily above him as his tongue swipes over his chest before moving to lick up the salt under his ribs. Molly’s skin is warm and smooth under his lips, and part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind taking much longer to explore it this way. Molly’s chest rises under him, his stomach muscles twitching at the touch. Molly’s head is lifted from the table to watch him and Caleb looks up at him as he moves lower, meeting his eye as he drags the tip of his tongue slowly over his jutting hip bone and along his waistband. He sees Molly’s throat bob, his chest rising and falling quickly. Caleb forces himself not to look down to see how much he’s affecting him, instead shifting to take the lime from Molly’s mouth.

Before he can, though, Molly pulls the lime into his mouth completely, grinning around it even as color blooms across his cheeks. He gives Caleb a challenging look, lips slightly pursed where he’s holding the lime wedge behind them. There’s a woman singing about moderation on the stereo, the sound pounding fuzzy in his ears, and Caleb can’t help but grin.

He leans over Molly, hovering so their faces are only a few inches apart, before reaching one hand up to slide up the back of Molly’s neck and tangle in the hair at the base of his skull. Molly frowns at him for half a second before his eyes widen and his mouth falls open in a gasp as Caleb tightens his fingers and tugs, forcing his head back. As soon as Molly’s mouth drops open, Caleb crushes their lips together, tongue and teeth catching the piece of lime and pulling it into his own mouth, where he bites down on it, sending juice dribbling into Molly’s mouth and down his chin. Molly’s hand flies up to cup the back of Caleb’s head, fingernails digging into Caleb’s scalp and pressing him closer as he tries to push up against Caleb’s grip on his hair. His tongue catches Caleb’s bottom lip and Caleb can feel more than hear him growl against his mouth.

Caleb pulls back slightly and drops the piece of lime into his free hand, tossing it aside and wiping his knuckles across his mouth, his other hand still wound tight in Molly’s hair and their faces close together.

“That wasn’t very fair of you, Mollymauk,” he murmurs, dragging out his name on his tongue and hitting the _k_ hard in his throat, watching Molly swallow and exhale raggedly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whines weakly. His hand is still resting on the back of Caleb’s head, keeping him close, and he lifts his head off the table enough to get his lips next to Caleb’s ear. “The things I would do to you right now if you’d let me,” he breathes, hot breath tickling the shell of Caleb’s ear.

He lays back down on the table, hand sliding from Caleb’s hair but eyes still fixed on Caleb’s expression. Caleb is still trying to digest this declaration when someone taps him on the back and he looks behind him to see a girl with a long, dark ponytail giving him an annoyed look. There are a couple of other people he doesn’t recognize lined up behind her.

“There are other people in line, you know,” she says, glancing over Caleb’s shoulder to wriggle her fingers at Molly in a flirtatious wave.

“Oh. Sorry,” Caleb says, suddenly remembering he’s in a room full of other people. He knows he’d feel embarrassed about it if he was sober, but now he just feels smug. Part of him wants to sneer at the girl with the ponytail, to make sure she knows he was the one to leave Molly wrecked and panting. He doesn’t even know what to do with what Molly just said to him. The rational part of him is flashing warning lights that this entire party was a horrible idea, that he needs to figure out how he even feels about Molly in the first place, but the much louder part of him dominated by tequila and adrenaline is telling him to drag Molly to the nearest closet and figure out exactly what _things_ Molly was talking about and continue whatever they'd been on the verge of starting the night before.

His rationale somehow manages to win out and he stumbles a little as he backs away from the table, glancing at Molly, who looks half murderous, half disappointed as the dark-haired girl steps up to sprinkle salt across his abdomen and stick a lime wedge in his mouth.

His gaze finds Beau, whose eyes are bulging in disbelief, as he steps away and he simply shrugs. Caleb knows he’s well past the point of intoxication, but he finds he doesn’t care. It’s freeing, allowing the warm, floating feeling of alcohol overtake many of the thoughts that are usually buzzing in his head.

There’s a sudden clamoring followed by quick footsteps behind him as he heads into the hall. Before he can look back there are hands digging firmly into his hips as Molly comes up behind him, pressing himself along Caleb’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder so his lips are grazing his ear. Caleb can feel him half-hard against him and he straightens up almost automatically in surprise at the sudden contact.

“I’m going to find you when I’m done,” Molly murmurs, low and heated and rough. “And I’m going to make you feel _so fucking good_.” He hands slide over the seam of Caleb’s groin and over his inner thighs, skirting carefully around the spot where his body is begging to be touched. Caleb stifles a whimper.

“Molly, _come on_!” someone calls from the kitchen, Molly growling in frustration in Caleb’s ear before tilting his head away to reply.

“Hang on, I’m coming!” he shouts back. He chuckles softly as he turns back to Caleb again. Caleb can feel his lips turn up in a grin against his ear. “I won’t be the only one coming,” he whispers. The tip of his tongue flicks over Caleb’s ear, fingernails digging briefly into his thighs and then he’s gone, striding back towards the kitchen and leaving Caleb swaying unsteadily on his feet.

He leans back against the wall as his knees wobble, closing his eyes and breathing hard, trying to will away the arousal licking up inside him like flames. He can feel his resolve crumbling and again considers simply waiting there for Molly to find him and make good on his promise. He smacks himself lightly on both cheeks to try and clear his head, wandering towards the living area.

He considers going outside to see if Nott is still around, see if the cold air will help, when he spots Caduceus sitting on the couch on the far side of the room. He’s both shocked to see him and somehow half-expecting it given the way the last month of his life has gone.

Caduceus is leaning back into the cushions, dressed in a loose hoodie and jeans and looking relaxed and unfazed by the loud thud of music coming from the speakers on the other side of the room or the couple that is wound together on the armchair in the corner. Normally, the sight would make Caleb cringe but instead he weaves his way through the room and plops down on the sofa next to Caduceus, thankful for the distraction.

“Good evening, Mister Clay,” he says loudly over the music as Caduceus gives him a faintly surprised look. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Caleb,” he says with a lazy smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Caleb says, scooting closer so he doesn’t have to shout. “Never imagined you to be much into these sort of parties.”

“Eh, I’m not really,” Caduceus responds with a shrug. He sinks down into the cushions a little more and tilts his head towards Caleb so they’re on a closer level. His eyelids are heavy and his long ears drooping back. Caleb feels the sudden urge to run his fingers over them to see if they’re as soft as they look. “Jester makes me come to them sometimes. Says I need social interaction. Apparently, my plants don’t count.”

“You don’t seem to be socially interacting much over here,” Caleb says, glancing at the couch that is otherwise empty save the two of them.

Caduceus chuckles, low and warm.

“I’m interacting with you, aren’t I?” he says, grinning. “How’s your hand, by the way?” He nods to Caleb’s hand and Caleb shrugs.

“I am too drunk to feel it, if I’m being honest,” he says, making Caduceus laugh again.

“I can see that,” Caduceus says as he pulls something out of his pocket. “Just make sure you pace yourself.”

"I forgot to ask this morning. How is your plant?"

Caduceus smiles, seemingly pleased Caleb remembered. "It's a little too soon to tell," he says. "But I think it'll be okay. I hope so, at least, I've been tending it for a while, I was really hoping it would bloom for the first time this year." He holds whatever he’d pulled from his pocket to his lips, pausing to glance at Caleb, who realizes what it is as Caduceus says, “do you care if I...?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Caleb says hastily as Caduceus pauses with a lighter half raised to the joint in his mouth. “I thought you only smoked when you meditated?”

Caduceus’ eyebrows raise slightly, like he’s surprised Caleb remembers their conversation from a month ago. “And I thought you didn’t approve of it at all?” he counters. “I did also say I use it when I’m stressed.”

“Are you stressed?” Caleb says, eyeing his relaxed posture dubiously.

“Hm, not anymore,” Caduceus replies cryptically.

Caleb grins. He feels a thrill go through him as Caduceus smiles and flicks his lighter, the little hiss of the flame as it catches the paper drowned out by the noise of the room. Caduceus’ features are thrown into sharp relief as he inhales, the tip of the joint glowing briefly, a thin whiff of smoke trailing from it.

He flashes Caleb another smile, lips still pressed tight together for a few long seconds before he opens his mouth to let the smoke curl out slowly. Caleb feels his heart rate leap excitedly. There’s something illicit about it in conjunction with the adrenaline still pumping through his veins that makes him feel impulsive, reckless.

"Can I try it?” he says before he can stop himself.

Caduceus’ smile widens, broad and lazy and warm.

“Sure,” he says, holding the joint towards Caleb.

“O-oh,” Caleb hesitates, “I’ve never actually...” he trails off, feeling naive.

But Caduceus simply gives him a kind smile and scoots closer to him so their sides are pressed together on the couch.

“So you just want to inhale and hold it in your lungs for a few seconds,” he says, so close to Caleb the tip of his ear brushes Caleb’s temple as he shifts his position. He holds the joint out to Caleb, who stares at it, suddenly doubtful.

“No pressure if you don’t want to,” Caduceus says with a shrug. “It’s not for everyone.” His smile is loose and understanding.

“No, no, I want to,” Caleb insists, “I don’t know, I’m just worried I’ll do it... wrong?” he finishes, frowning.

Caduceus chuckles. “Unless you swallow it, you won’t do it wrong,” he says kindly. “But if you want, I could do something to help you out. Mellow it a little until you feel comfortable.”

“Oh?” Caleb says curiously.

“Yeah, yeah, here, hang on,” Caduceus clamps the joint between his teeth.

Caleb stiffens as he’s suddenly being scooped up by Caduceus and settled on his lap facing him, his knees falling on either side of Caduceus’ thighs. He feels his face burn with heat and forces himself with difficulty not to look around to see who might be watching them.

He’s almost perfectly at Caduceus’ eye level in this position and the firbolg gives him another warm smile.

“This okay?” Caduceus says, one hand resting lightly on Caleb’s thigh.

“Uh, sure,” Caleb mutters, trying to be as still as possible.

“Great,” Caduceus says, beaming. “So, I’m going to take a hit. Then I’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth. It’s not quite as strong that way.”

“Right,” Caleb says, focusing his gaze just over Caduceus’ left ear so he’s not looking at him directly.

“Ready?” Caduceus says, waiting for Caleb to nod before pressing the joint between his lips and inhaling deeply. The flare of orange makes his eyes glow briefly as they catch the light, deep vibrant pink like clouds backlit at sunset.

He pulls the joint away and Caleb opens his mouth expectantly, eyes widening in surprise when Caduceus reaches up with his free hand to cup the back of his head and pull him down until their mouths are a hairsbreadth apart. He feels warm smoke filling his mouth and nearly forgets to inhale, quickly sucking in a breath and coughing hard when it hits his lungs sharp and hot and dry.

“Whoa whoa, it’s okay,” Caduceus says, patting his back as he coughs painfully, mouth and throat suddenly bone dry. “Here, take a drink. Small sips.”

A cool bottle of water is forced into his hand and he takes a few small gulps between catching his breath.

“Sorry,” Caduceus says sheepishly, “should have told you to breathe in slowly.”

“No, it is my fault,” Caleb says hoarsely. He clears his throat a final time. “Can I try again?”

“You sure?” Caduceus says doubtfully.

“Yes,” Caleb says, “I’ll do better this time.”

Caduceus gives him another wary look before taking another hit into his lungs. He opens his mouth, letting out a muffled noise of surprise when Caleb presses their mouths together before he can react further, one hand raising to slide along Caduceus’ jawline and through his surprisingly soft beard. He feels Caduceus’ fingers twitch where his hand is still resting on his neck, curling slightly in his hair as he breathes in, pulling the air out of Caduceus’ lungs into his own.

There’s a fresh rush of adrenaline shooting through his system so fast he feels lightheaded, as reckless as he did ten minutes ago with Molly. They’re not kissing, their lips unmoving as Caleb feels Caduceus push smoke into his mouth, and Caleb clings to the technicality even as part of him wants to ignore decorum and push Caduceus back further into the couch and kiss him until his lips are sore, chase that arousal that’s been burning in his blood. He tries and fails not to think about the fact that he'd seen Caduceus naked in his own bathroom not twelve hours ago. The fact that Caduceus' cock is inches from him. That he could so easily slide onto the floor between his legs and try and take him in his mouth. His jaw aches at the thought.

His rational side reminds him again that still doesn’t know how he feels—besides being attracted to him—about Caduceus. Or Molly. Or if Caduceus definitely even has feelings for him. But the momentary balm of alcohol and sticky sweet smoke is dangerously lowering his inhibitions. That along with the fact that he hasn’t been touched by someone else in so long makes his body hum at the slightest contact. He feels like he’s spent the last twenty-four hours teetering so precariously on the line between nothing and _something_ with both of them that he’s aching to lose his footing and see what happens.

There’s a warm puff of air against his lips as he pulls back just enough to meet Caduceus’ eyes. He looks dazed, eyes heavy-lidded and lips wet and parted.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” he says. He licks his lips with a thoughtful expression. “You taste like lime.”

“Body shots,” Caleb explains, feeling a heady surge of arousal at the fact that Caduceus can taste him. “Can I try it now?” he gestures to the joint clasped loosely in Caduceus’ fingers.

“If you’re sure,” Caduceus says, passing it to him. He watches Caleb closely as he raises it to his lips and inhales slowly. Smoke rushes hot down his throat and into his lungs, much stronger than breathing indirectly from Caduceus, and he has to clamp his lips together tight to keep from immediately coughing it back out, lungs contracting automatically.

He takes Caduceus’ chin in one hand and eases his mouth open with his thumb on his lower lip before pressing their lips together again and breathing smoke into Caduceus’ mouth. Caduceus’ fingers tighten in his hair, his other hand coming to rest of Caleb’s thigh. Caleb keeps the joint tightly gripped in one hand and slides his other hand over Caduceus’ jaw and around to rest on the back of his neck.

Caleb can feel the drugs hitting his system already, making him feel light and heavy all at once. He feels overly warm, every point of contact with Caduceus like a hot tongue of flame pressed against his skin. He pulls back just enough to take a breath, resting his forehead against Caduceus’ and closing his eyes.

“You okay?” Caduceus murmurs. His hand slides down from Caleb’s hair to rub his back soothingly and Caleb sags a little against him.

“Tired,” Caleb replies, throat dry and voice hoarse. He suddenly feels exhausted, like he could sleep for a week. He can feel his arousal cooling into something softer around the edges, a low simmer of desire just under his skin. He wants to touch and be touched so badly. It's been so long since he's been this close to someone else and it's making his scrambled thoughts fire off mixed signals in his own head.

Caduceus chuckles. “It’s starting to hit you, huh?” His hand is still rubbing absently up and down Caleb’s back, broad and warm, and Caleb thinks he could fall asleep just as he is.

He forces his eyes open to see Caduceus staring back at him with fond amusement.

"You sure you're okay?" Caduceus says, head tilting to one side.

" _Ja,_ " Caleb mutters. His eyelids feel impossibly heavy. He lets them slide shut, sighing contentedly.

"Don't fall asleep on me, now.”

Caleb hums, eyes still shut. He wants to ask Caduceus to talk to him. About what, he doesn't care. He just wants to listen to the deep, soothing voice in his ear until he falls asleep. He forces his eyes open half an inch.

“I like you, Caduceus Clay,” he mumbles. He pats Caduceus cheek lightly before leaning against him, resting his head on his shoulder, head turned into Caduceus neck. He wants to press his lips against the soft looking skin and see how Caduceus reacts.

He feels Caduceus laugh gently under him.

“I like you too, Caleb Widogast,” he responds, patting Caleb on the back. “How about we get you to bed?”

Something swoops weakly in Caleb's stomach but he's too tired to focus on it. He sighs longingly at the thought of his bed and nods into Caduceus’ shoulder. Caduceus shifts him to the side so he can stand, pulling Caleb to his feet next to him and catching him under the arms when he wobbles unsteadily.

“Here you go,” Caduceus says, allowing Caleb to lean against him as they walk, Caleb only half paying attention to where they’re going. His feet automatically carry him along at Caduceus' side.

"Would you like to hear a joke?" Caleb says, tilting his head up to look up at Caduceus' profile, the sharp line of his jaw and gentle slope of his nose. He's hunched slightly so he can keep his arm under Caleb's to hold him upright.

"Shoot," Caduceus says, half-glancing at him.

"Why do chemists like nitrates so much?"

Caduceus frowns in confusion. "I... don't know," he says. "Why?"

"Because," Caleb says, already chuckling, "they are cheaper than day rates."

Caduceus' frown deepens, though his face softens into a smile after a moment when Caleb doesn't stop laughing.

"I never realized it before," he says, giving Caleb a curious look.

"Hm?"

"You have dimples," Caduceus replies, reaching his free hand up to brush his thumb against Caleb's cheek absently. "It's cute."

Caleb feels the air punch of his lungs at the touch in combination with the affectionate, lopsided smile Caduceus gives him. He stumbles a little and Caduceus' arm tightens around his middle.

"Careful," he murmurs, voice low in Caleb's ear. "I've got you."

They make their way down the hall towards the entry, a few people giving them curious looks as they pass.

“Caduceus,” Caleb begins, words slurring slightly though he feels a sudden, desperate need to say them. “What do you do when you have two things you might want but you don’t know if you want them but if you _do_ want them you can’t have both of them?”

“Well,” Caduceus says slowly, frowning in consideration as he mulls over Caleb's jumbled thoughts. “I think first you need to figure out if you want whatever it is. And if you _really_ want them both, pick which one you can’t live without.”

Caleb’s heart sinks and he glances up at Caduceus. “What if I don’t want to live without either of them?” he says quietly.

“Then you may have a very hard decision on your hands,” Caduceus responds. He gives Caleb a reassuring squeeze around the middle before continuing their way through the entry and out onto the walk in front of the building.

“Caleb! What’s wrong?”

Caleb glances up to see Nott running towards them looking worried.

“He’s alright,” Caduceus says. “Just had a little too much, I think. Needs a good night’s sleep.”

“Nooooott,” Caleb sings as Nott pokes and prods him to make sure he’s unharmed. “‘M’fine. Caduceus took care of me.” He’s hit with a sudden bout of giggling, leaning heavily against Caduceus’ side while Nott looks even more worried.

“What did you have?” Nott says, shoving one of Caleb’s drooping eyelids up to look at his eyes, which he’s sure are horribly bloodshot. “Caleb, were you _smoking_?”

She sounds more impressed than upset, knowing how close-vested Caleb usually is.

“Caduceus gave me some,” Caleb says, nodding. “Isn’t he so nice?” He reaches up to run his hand over Caduceus’ jaw, snickering as he pokes the end of his nose and makes a loud _pop_ with his lips as he does it. Caduceus smiles and shakes with a silent laugh against him.

Nott gives Caduceus a vaguely suspicious look.

“He asked for it,” Caduceus says. “He only had a few hits but it is pretty strong so it might be best for him to just sleep it off. I think he had a few drinks beforehand, too.”

Nott sighs and takes Caleb’s arm.

“Come on, Caleb,” she says gently. “Let’s get you home to sleep.” She turns back to the call out to the knot of people she’d been talking with, “Jester, I’m going to run Caleb home then I’ll be back.”

“Okay!” Jester calls, waving and smiling at them before returning to her conversation.

“If you tell me where it is from here I can take him,” Caduceus offers. “I really don’t mind.”

“No, I’ve got him,” Nott says, patting Caleb’s leg. “Thank you for bringing him out. Come on, Caleb.”

She pulls lightly on Caleb’s arm and he stumbles half a step behind her in the direction of their apartment. He glances over his shoulder to wave at Caduceus, who smiles and waves back, looking faintly disappointed.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” Caleb mumbles when they’ve been walking silently for a few minutes.

“You didn’t ruin it,” Nott says. She glances up at Caleb and smiles, genuine and reassuring. “Did you have fun?”

Caleb considers the question for a moment. “Yeah,” he says. “I think so.” He remembers Molly and feels something between guilt and disappointment at leaving before he’d found him again. Though he thinks it may be for the best. That rush of confidence and recklessness is leaving his system and he’s starting to feel the telltale scratch of anxiety in the back of his brain in place of it.

Nott’s smile widens happily and she gives Caleb a one-armed squeeze around the middle as they walk. 

“I’m glad you’re making more friends,” she says. “I know I’ve been kind of asshole about it so it might not seem like it but I _am_ glad.” She looks sheepishly down at her feet before looking up at Caleb with fond smile.

Caleb returns her smile but doesn’t tell her anything more about Molly or Caduceus, sure she’ll find out from someone else eventually with the way gossip seems to travel around campus. He’s too tired to be interrogated right now anyway.

They reach their apartment a few minutes later, Nott making sure he takes off his shoes and coat before collapsing into bed face first. Frumpkin crawls up next to him and curls into a ball by his side, Nott patting him on the leg and checking if he needs anything else before declaring she’s returning to the party and to text if she needs her. Caleb grumbles in understanding and waves her away, already halfway asleep.

His phone dings a few times in his pocket after she leaves and he groans as he digs it out and squints at the too-bright screen to read the messages he’s received over the last hour.

 **_Beauregard:_ ** _?????????????? wtf was THAT_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _omg I’m done now where did you go??? I can’t wait to get my hands on you ;-Y_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I’m glad I got to see you again tonight :)_

 **_Beauregard:_ ** _no seriously dude what the fuck was that??? And where did you go, Molly is about to have an aneurysm looking for you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _Fjord said he saw you leave come baaack T-T_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Caleeeeb, I saw you with Caduceus, did you guys have fuuuun? ;3c_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I didn’t have a chance before you left so, good night, Caleb :)_

Caleb groans and throws his phone face down on the bed. He’ll deal with it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No spoilers but oh boy the last two episodes oh man. 
> 
> Thank you all again so much for reading and for your lovely comments, I've been horribly sick all week and y'all make my days much better with your kind words.
> 
> I don't know if anyone is interested but I do have playlists for this fic I listen to while writing, I've created partial ones that I will update as the fic progresses since I made them chronological to go with the story. They are currently updated through this chapter.
> 
> Caduceus: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6KtlFqamabc6n40tw3kFcv  
> Molly: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dtLgEt6a81XScs8C2fc5M
> 
> And, again, don't know if anyone is interested but I am also at walkalittleline on twitter.
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early because no CR this week! Please note the change in rating!

He doesn’t deal with it in the morning.  
  
When he wakes up with his brain pounding against his skull and his mouth achingly dry, the washed out look of the light through the curtains telling him it’s just before sunrise, he stumbles to the bathroom to choke down painkillers along with two glasses of water and scrub the sour taste from his mouth with his toothbrush. He hurries back to his room and locks the door behind him, glancing at the still closed door of Nott's room as he does. He crawls back under the covers, pulling them over his head once Frumpkin has curled up at his side, and goes back to sleep.  
  
When Frumpkin's meowing for his breakfast wakes him up again, he feels disoriented, scrubbing his hands over his face as he sits up among the tangled sheets. He’s still in his clothes from the night before and he’s sure he reeks of alcohol and weed and stale sweat.  
  
He gathers up clean clothes and pokes his head into the hall to make sure Nott isn’t there before tiptoeing to the bathroom. He feels marginally better after a hot shower, standing under the water until it starts to run cool and finally toweling himself off and pulling on his clothes. There is no sign of Nott when he goes to the kitchen to feed Frumpkin and he wonders if she’d ended up staying the night at Jester’s.  
  
At this point he’s fully prepared to climb back into bed and sleep the rest of the day. Maybe his problems will solve themselves if he just ignores them long enough. He slips back into his bedroom and locks the door behind him just in case.  
  
He heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he turns around to see Nott sitting cross-legged on his bed, watching him silently.  
  
“ _Scheisse!_ ” he shouts, clutching his chest and bracing himself against the doorframe as he waits for his heartbeat to return to normal. “What are you doing in here?”  
  
“You know why,” Nott says simply. She nods to a steaming mug of coffee sitting on the nightstand and Caleb takes it gratefully, making a pleased noise as he takes a sip.  
  
He sits on the bed next to Nott with a sigh, staring down into the mug and fidgeting apprehensively.  
  
“I suppose you know what happened last night then?” Caleb says when he can’t bear the silence any longer.  
  
“Bits of it,” Nott says. “Beau told us what happened with Molly and Jester heard from someone else about Caduceus.”  
  
Caleb blanches. The previous night feels foggy when he thinks about it, like he's watching someone else's memories rather than his own. He remembers what Molly said to him, the way Caduceus had looked at him, with stark clarity, though.  
  
“Are you upset with me?” he mumbles, glancing at her.  
  
“Caleb,” Nott begins gently, “you’re an adult and I’m not going to... to tell you what you can and can’t do. I know I can be overbearing sometimes and I’m sorry for that. I’m trying not to be. I just worry about you. I’m not upset at you for having fun, but I think you’re upset with yourself. Am I right?”  
  
Caleb doesn’t respond and he hears her sigh quietly. She scoots closer to him and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Do you... like them?” she says carefully.  
  
Caleb groans and drags one hand down his face.  
  
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “Maybe?”  
  
“...Which one do you like more?”  
  
“I don’t _know_ , Nott.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t—the problem isn’t how I feel. It’s the fact that it’s... it’s completely wrong of me to feel anything about either of them. Besides, I don't have time for... _that_ right now anyway.”  
  
“Are you sure you’re not just saying that as an excuse to yourself?” Nott says softly.  
  
“I don’t know.” He feels as utterly tangled up inside his own head as he did the night before. He so just wants to crawl under the blankets and never come out again. It feels like someone has woven brambles through his brain. His hangover is gone but his head still aches.  
  
“Well,” Nott begins slowly, like she’s deliberating each word. “I think that if you’re not... interested in having a relationship with either of them, then you need to tell them that.”  
  
“I know,” Caleb mutters.  
  
He knows it's the easy way out, shutting everything down completely, rather than trying to parse his own muddled feelings. He tries not to feel upset at the prospect. He tells himself that he can still continue his friendship with Caduceus, can possibly pass off the previous night's events as the side-effect of one too many drinks. Molly might be a bit more complicated, but he hopes he’ll understand why he has to put a stop to... whatever it is they’re doing, dancing around each other the way they have been.  
  
Nott lays her hand on top of his own and squeezes it gently.  
  
"It'll be okay," she says, offering a reassuring smile. "As long as you're sure this is what you want."  
  
"I don't like things being complicated," Caleb mumbles, rubbing his hands over his arms in a nervous gesture. "This is getting too complicated. You know I can't take complicated."  
  
"I know," Nott says kindly. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

  
He can feel panic tickling the back of his brain and he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath to will it away as he nods sharply.

  
"If either of them gets upset with you just let me know and I'll take care of it," she cracks her knuckles threateningly and Caleb laughs, though he thinks she's only half joking.  
  
"Okay," he says, taking a steadying breath and pulling out his phone. He sends separate messages to both Caduceus and Molly before he can stop himself and hurriedly lays his phone back on the bed to ignore any new messages that might come through. He's not in the right headspace to deal with it right now, needs to work himself up to the confrontation he's already dreading happening the next day.  
  
Nott gives him a one-armed hug around the waist and he leans against her automatically. He’s been so busy the past few weeks he thinks he’s been neglecting their friendship more than he realized. While he knows she would never admit it, he’s sure that’s part of the reason she’s been so invasive in his relationships with Molly and Caduceus. He can’t begrudge her for it, though, she more than anyone knows his self-destructive tendencies when he’s feeling overwhelmed, how quickly he can shut down.

  
"Do you want to get Thai food and watch movies all day?" she says. "I'll even watch one of those weird foreign movies you like."  
  
Caleb huffs out a laugh and kisses the top of her head, feeling a rush of affection for her. "Sure. That sounds nice."

* * *

 

By the time 9 AM rolls around the next morning, when he's sitting in his tiny office checking the clock every ten seconds between glances at the door waiting for Caduceus to show up, he's worked himself into such an anxious state his stomach is in knots. When there’s a gentle knock at the door he jumps so hard he hits his knee painfully on the underside of the desk.  
  
“Come in,” he grits out, rubbing his knee and grimacing as the door swings open and Caduceus steps inside.  
  
“Good morning,” Caduceus says as he shuts the door behind him, flashing Caleb a smile.  
  
"Good morning," Caleb responds stiffly, barely able to meet Caduceus' eyes as he moves to sit in the chair across from Caleb's desk.  
  
"So, what did you need to talk about?" Caduceus says. He glances at Caleb's hands where they're clenched together tightly on the desktop to keep them from fidgeting. "How's your hand, by the way?"  
  
"It's better," Caleb says, wincing at how clipped his tone is. He takes a quick, bracing breath and smiles across the desk at Caduceus, who's watching him with a familiar placid expression. He clears his throat nervously, wishing he had a drink of water to wet his suddenly dry throat.  
  
"I just wanted to apologize," he begins, "for the way I behaved Saturday. I had a little too much to drink and it was inappropriate and unprofessional and I just wanted to make sure you know that it won't happen again."  
  
Caduceus stares back at him for a few seconds before his brow creases in a questioning frown.  
  
"What do you mean?" he says, head cocking to the side.  
  
Caleb blinks, taken aback.  
  
"Um, the way I behaved," he stammers as he regains his mental footing. "It was, um—I shouldn't have acted that way."  
  
"Ohhh," Caduceus says slowly and Caleb feels a rush of relief that he doesn't have to try and explain exactly why him drunkenly almost-but-not-really kissing him is inappropriate. Caduceus smiles and shrugs good-naturedly. "No worries. We don't have to smoke again if it makes you uncomfortable. Like I said, it's not for everyone."  
  
Caleb's stomach sinks.  
  
"Ah... no, that's, not what I meant," he says weakly. He rubs one hand over the back of his neck and drums his fingers anxiously on the desk.  
  
Caduceus frowns again. "Then, what's wrong?" he says, looking vaguely concerned.  
  
"You see nothing wrong with what happened Saturday?" Caleb says carefully.  
  
Caduceus looks up and squints like he's considering the question, lips pursed faintly. He shakes his head after a few seconds. "Just two friends enjoying one of nature's many gifts," he says with another easy smile. "But, like I said, if you're not okay with, we never have to do it again."  
  
Realization settles in Caleb's stomach, cold and heavy, and he tells himself to ignore how much it feels like disappointment. This is good. This is what he wanted. So why does it feel like the exact opposite?  
  
"Yeah," he says absently, forcing a smile. "Yeah, okay. That's probably for the best."  
  
"Sure," Caduceus says, shrugging and smiling cheerily. "And hey, if it bothers you being in the room with my plants, we can meet somewhere else to study."  
  
"No, no, it's fine," Caleb mutters, frowning down at his hands.  
  
"If you're sure." He gives Caleb a concerned look. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Caleb replies. "Just a misunderstanding, I guess." Caduceus looks at him curiously but Caleb doesn't elaborate.  
  
"Oh, hey, I wanted to ask." Caduceus leans forward in his seat towards him and Caleb forces himself to look up at him again. "I've been thinking about what you said Saturday when I was at your place. About me not reading the right books, and I thought maybe since you're a book expert you might be able to recommend some for me. Figured I'd give it another shot. You made Chemistry easier for me, thought you could probably do the same for books." His expression is vaguely hopeful, coral pink eyes bright and warm.  
  
"Oh," Caleb says, thrown by the request. "Um, sure."  
  
Caduceus smiles, wide and happy, and Caleb can't help but return it, some of the tension unwinding itself from his shoulders.  
  
"There's actually a used book shop about fifteen minutes from here, um, _Boundless Books_ I think it’s called," he says, the cold weight lessening just a little. "I'm sure we could find something there for you. Are you free Saturday?"  
  
"Yeah," Caduceus says eagerly. "You sure you don't mind? I'm sure you've got better things to do than spend your weekend with me again."  
  
"Not really," Caleb says with a self-deprecating laugh. "I would probably just be reading anyway. Or doing homework. I've been wanting to go back there anyway, this will give me an excuse."  
  
"Cool," Caduceus says, looking pleased. He glances at the clock on the wall and pushes himself to his feet. "I gotta get to class but maybe we can figure it out tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah," Caleb replies, smiling in spite of himself. "Sounds good."  
  
"See you around, Caleb." Caduceus raises a hand in a wave, flashing Caleb a smile over his shoulder as he steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him.  
  
The moment the door clicks shut, Caleb buries his face in his hands and exhales hard.  
  
"What are you doing, why are you upset about this, this is what you wanted," he mutters angrily. " _Dummkopf._ This is good.  _You wanted this_."  

He drags his hand absently over his jaw and sits back in his chair, willing himself to be relieved even as there's a twinge of apprehension when he realizes it's almost 9:30 and that Molly will be showing up soon.  
  
He tries and fails to spend a few minutes working on his homework, wringing his hands together nervously instead and straightening up automatically when there's a sharp rap at the door. It swings inward before he can say anything and Molly slips in, shutting the door behind him and giving him a sly smile.  
  
"Hello, darling," he says. He drops smoothly in the seat Caduceus just vacated, crossing one leg over the other and lounging back. "You know, I was afraid you'd forgotten about me when you didn't respond to any of my messages this weekend." He pouts, resting his chin on his fist. "You left before we could, ah, finish things." He grins with a flash of canines and Caleb feels his blood thrum in veins at the memory of Molly's warm skin under his lips, Molly’s hands on his hips. Molly is dressed in a wide-collared sweater that exposes the sharp lines of his collarbones and he can feel his eyes being drawn to the spot.  
  
"Yes, well," he begins, wincing at how breathless he sounds. It feels like whiplash from Caduceus' laidback presence, the way Molly sets him on edge in a way that makes sparks arc up his spine. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."  
  
"Oh?" Molly says, perking up with interest. "You know, I haven't got class for another hour if you wanted too—"  
  
"No, Mollymauk, that's not—" he swallows and wets his lips, diving into the rehearsed words, "—I asked you to come here because the way I behaved this weekend was completely inappropriate a-and unprofessional and, um..." he trails off, eyes following the path of Molly's index finger as he slides it absently along his collarbone to the dip of his throat.  
  
"Yes?" Molly says, smirking.  
  
Caleb shakes his head a little and clears his throat.  
  
"Mollymauk," he says more firmly. "Whatever this—" he gestures between the two of them, "—is cannot continue. I'm serious," he adds when Molly quirks a dubious eyebrow at him. "I enjoy your company, Mollymauk, and I will gladly remain friends with you but nothing more.  
  
"I’m sorry if this makes it feel like I was leading you on. That was not my intention. I am being paid by the school to tutor you and Caduceus, and I cannot behave in this way when I am in a position of power over you, as minimal as it may be.”  
  
Molly stares at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. His lips curl up into a smile eventually and Caleb feels a bubble of relief in his chest.  
  
“I get it,” Molly says, shrugging one shoulder.  
  
“You do?” Caleb asks, surprised.  
  
“Yeah.” He rolls his shoulders and sits back in his chair. “I get that you want to be _good_ for the school. And I’ll do my best to be a little less... upfront.” He pushes himself to his feet, placing his palms on Caleb’s desk and leaning across it towards him. “I’ll be a good boy, Caleb, but I’m not going to just pretend I’m not attracted to you.” He wets his lips absently, gaze unflinching. “If I’m being honest, I’d be _very_ surprised to find out you don’t feel the same way after everything that's happened. Am I wrong?”  
  
“I—the point is not that I— _whether_ or not I am attracted to you,” Caleb says, matching Molly’s gaze even as heat prickles up the back of his neck. “The point is that it is unethical given the current circumstances.”  
  
“So if you _weren’t_ tutoring me you’d be totally onboard?” Molly cocks his head to the side with the barest smirk.  
  
“I—“  
  
“It’s okay.” He straightens up with a lazy shrug of his shoulders. “I understand. But I don't think this is going to work the way you expect it to. You’re a chemist, Caleb, I’m sure you know you can’t stop a chemical reaction from happening once it’s already started.”  
  
He winks and turns on his heel to stride to the door, pausing at the doorway to glance back at Caleb.  
  
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, flashing Caleb a grin before stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him.  
  
Caleb drags one hand down his face and sits back in his chair, exhaling sharply.  
  
“Okay,” he mutters, “that could have been worse. Could have gone better, but...”  
  
He drums his fingers on his thighs for a moment before glancing at the clock on the wall and pulling a wry face at the thought of still having to attend the rest of his classes for the day. He feels mentally drained from the morning, wrung out. Though, at the same time, he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. He feels the faintest twinge of apprehension about seeing Molly that evening, but somehow trusts him to keep his promise and respect his wishes.  
  
He can do this, can keep his head down and his focus on school where it should be. He doesn’t have time for that sort of distraction anyway, much less two of them.  


* * *

  
Molly bursts into his shared room, tossing his bag on the floor without a second thought and all but throwing himself onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. He hears Fjord still where he’s sitting on his own bed on his computer. He can practically hear his eyes rolling from across the room.  
  
Fjord sighs. “Something wrong, Molly?” he says, clearly reluctant to ask.  
  
Molly rolls onto his back, arms flopping out at his sides, and heaves another heavy sigh. There's a steady thrum of rain against the windows outside, the sky steadily growing darker as evening falls. He’s spent the entire day completely distracted thinking about Caleb and their conversation from that morning, stewing miserably.  
  
“Everything,” he says dejectedly.  
  
“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, I’m afraid,” Fjord says, tone thick with exasperation.  
  
Molly sits up and looks at him with a grave expression. “My love life is in shambles,” he whines.  
  
Fjord blinks, mouth drawn in a flat line. “Tragic,” he says dully.  
  
“This is serious, Fjord,” Molly cries. “Caleb said he ‘doesn’t want to be inappropriate’ because the school is paying him to tutor me. I don’t see why that should stop him from sleeping with me!”  
  
“Well, we can’t all have your inscrutable morals, I guess,” Fjord mutters. He frowns, glancing over at Molly. “Hang on. Are you _still_ trying to go after that Caleb guy? Don’t you usually give up after like... twenty minutes?”  
  
“This is different,” Molly replies haughtily. He smiles wistfully at the thought of Caleb. “I like him.”  
  
“Molly,” Fjord begins with a look of disbelief, “Are you _smitten_?”  
  
“Yeah, calm down, grandma,” Molly says, rolling his eyes.  
  
“What’s so great about this guy anyway?” Fjord says, sounding mildly interested for the first time in the conversation.  
  
“I mean, he’s got that sexy teacher thing going, first of all,” Molly begins, grinning.  
  
Fjord rolls his eyes and turns back to his laptop. “Sounds like you’ve formed a really deep, emotional connection.”  
  
“I wasn’t finished,” Molly says with a scowl, flinging a decorative throw pillow at his head and clucking his tongue when Fjord easily ducks out of the way of it. “He’s also sweet and smart and shy and sexy—“  
  
“Yeah, you already mentioned that last one,” Fjord mumbles, sounding bored again.  
  
“Hey,” Molly says, sitting up a little straighter as an idea strikes him. “You fucked that French chick who was here last year. The exchange student. What’s her name... Alana?”  
  
“Avantika,” Fjord says, wrinkling his nose at the mention of her and throwing the pillow back at him like a frisbee.  
  
“Yeah!” Molly exclaims, catching the pillow and hugging it against his chest absently. “Caleb’s German, you think I should like, speak German to him or something? German’s not really sexy like French, though, he might just think I’m shouting at him,” he adds as an afterthought, frowning.  
  
“First of all,” Fjord begins, giving up on whatever he was doing and setting his laptop aside so he can turn to face Molly fully. “I never spoke any French to Avantika and second, she ended up being batshit crazy so I wouldn’t use her as an example of wooing Europeans.”  
  
Molly sighs, setting the pillow aside and leaning back on his hands. “What do German people like?” he says, only half listening to Fjord. “I know he likes beer. I mean... I can always give him a good sausage.” His lips curl up in a smirk.  
  
“Is there ever a moment you’re not thinking about sex?” Fjord says incredulously.  
  
“They’re far and few between, thank god,” Molly replies airily. He taps his finger thoughtfully against his lips.  
  
“Why can’t you just be a normal person and, y’know, take him to see a movie or something?” Fjord asks. “What?” He says when Molly gives him a scathing look.  
  
“A _movie date_ , Fjord?” he says, voice thick with disdain. “Do I look straight to you? Might as well take him to Applebee’s afterward.”  
  
“What’s wrong with Applebee’s?” Fjord asks, looking bewildered.  
  
“I have such sympathy for any woman who dates you,” Molly says, shaking his head sadly. “Besides, I don’t think I can just wait and hope he comes around, I have competition.”  
  
“Competition?”  
  
Molly scowls at the thought of the firbolg he’d seen with Caleb a week ago. _Getting tea_ , he’d said. Who the hell goes out for tea? Then he’d showed up at the party and apparently gotten high with Caleb. And he’d seen the way he’d looked at Caleb, that dopey, lovestruck smile. He felt a rush of jealousy at the thought.  
  
“Caduceus Clay,” he grumbles, scowling moodily.  
  
“Caduceus?” Fjord echoes, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Oh, yeah, he’s Jester’s friend, I’ve met him a couple times, he seems like a pretty cool guy.” He falters at the look on Molly’s face. “I-I mean, he was horrible. Really bad. Probably punches puppies and shit for fun.”  
  
Molly glowers at him for another moment before flopping back in the blankets with a groan, staring forlornly up at the canopy of silk above him. He doesn’t like the hot burn of jealousy that rises in his chest when he thinks of Caduceus, but the thought of Caleb with him makes him sick to his stomach.  
  
Molly has never been one for feeling lovesick or romantic gestures, every relationship—if he can call it that—he’s been in has been almost transactional, over nearly as soon as it began. And at first he’d assumed things would go the same way with Caleb, take him to bed, have some fun, and move on. But there’s something warm and giddy that blossoms in his chest when he thinks of Caleb now that he hasn’t felt before and he’s not keen on letting it go. And Caleb is quick-witted and clever and Molly so badly wants to pick him apart and find out what makes him tick. He’s seen the way Caleb flushes and stutters when he flirts with him, it makes him want in a way that's far beyond sexual. Not that he wouldn't take Caleb to bed and fuck him silly if he got the chance, of course. He wants to see just how far that pretty blush goes, see if the rest of him is as freckled as his face.  
  
Beau had told him to stop coming on so strongly and he’s been trying to soften his edges when he’s around Caleb. But he’s seen the way Caleb’s gaze lingers on his skin, seen the heat behind his bright blue eyes, and if that’s what Caleb reacts to, well, he knows how to play to his strengths. He vows to restrain himself a little more though, both to obey Caleb’s request and to see if perhaps letting himself trade some of that shameless flirting for something more heartfelt will make Caleb see that he’s not just interested in getting him in bed anymore.

  
“Look, if you’re so worried about this Caduceus guy, why don’t you talk to him?” Fjord suggests. “I mean, he was nice but to be perfectly honest, he didn’t seem all too bright. Maybe there’s just a misunderstanding.”  
  
Molly sits up again, giving Fjord a considering look.  
  
“Now, don’t be an ass about it,” Fjord continues hurriedly, looking like he’s second-guessing himself. “Just... a friendly chat couldn’t hurt. Get a feel for what he thinks of Caleb, y’know?”  
  
“Maybe you’re right,” Molly says. He purses his lips as he mulls over the idea in his head. He doesn’t want to tell Caduceus flat out to back off Caleb, he doesn’t want to look like a complete creep, but maybe a gentle nudge in that direction will be enough to get him to do so. Or at least give Molly a better idea of what he’s up against. He scowls as he thinks about what Beau had told him at the party after Caleb left, what she’d heard about Caduceus from Jester who’d heard from Caleb’s roommate about certain parts of his anatomy that Molly cannot compete with.  
  
“Fjord?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Do you think Caleb’s a top or a bottom?” Molly muses aloud, grinning when Fjord colors.  
  
“Molly,” he says in a clipped tone.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You remember last year when I walked in on you and that elf?”  
  
“Mm, fondly.”  
  
“Remember how you asked if I wanted to join in and I said there were boundaries we were going to set?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“You’re gettin’ real close to crossing that boundary again.”  
  
Molly clicks his tongue in faint disappointment but doesn’t push the subject. He gets to his feet, smoothing his hands down his front and glancing at himself in the mirror hanging to the back of the door.  
  
“Do I look intimidating?” he says, turning his head to view himself at different angles in the reflection.  
  
“To a seven-foot-tall firbolg?” Fjord says as he picks up his laptop again. “I’m going to guess no.”  
  
“Well, I look fabulous anyway,” Molly sniffs, fixing a few out of place curls. “Wish me luck.”  
  
“Be nice,” Fjord calls warningly after him as he strides out of the room.  
  
He turns the collar of his coat up against the icy rain that’s been falling since earlier that afternoon as he steps outside, turning on the spot when he realizes he has no idea where to find Caduceus. Grumbling under his breath, he takes off at a jog towards the main cluster of buildings on the other end of the quad, silently praying Caduceus is not in class. He's full of pent up adrenaline and he wants to speak his mind before it wears off and he loses his nerve. His coat is soaked through by the time he reaches the first building, shivering as he quickly strides down the hall peering briefly into every classroom he passes.  
  
His hair is plastered to his head and his boots squelching uncomfortably when he finally finds him walking across the vestibule in the dining hall towards the cafeteria, strolling a little aimlessly and smiling at his phone is a way that Molly knows who he must be talking to. His nostrils flare and he balls his hands into fists, striding purposefully towards the firbolg.  
  
“Hey, Clay!” he calls, picking up his pace when the firbolg pauses and glances around at his name. His eyes fall on Molly, widening a little at his sopping appearance, and he raises a hand in greeting, smiling faintly.  
  
“Oh, hi there,” he says in that deep, unhurried voice. “It’s Mollymauk right?”  
  
“Yes,” Molly clips. He draws himself up to full height, which still leaves him looking up into Caduceus’ mildly curious expression.  
  
“What can I help you with?” Caduceus says, still annoyingly calm.  
  
“Look,” Molly begins, “I just want you to be aware that you’re not the only one with a dog in this race, okay? I know what happened Saturday and you should know, he only went looking for you because I was busy.”

Caduceus raises his eyebrows with a look of mild befuddlement, blinking benignly.  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“I mean, I’m not going to tell you to back off or anything like that,” Molly plows on, ignoring him. “He’s an adult and he can make his own decisions and, I get it, he’s smart and funny and—well, I’m not giving up just because there’s competition, got it?”  
  
Caduceus is silent for a few seconds and Molly feels a swell of triumph.  
  
“I’m sorry, I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” Caduceus confesses. He’s still smiling faintly down at Molly.  
  
“Seriously?” Molly says, exasperated. “I’m talking about Caleb!”  
  
Caduceus’ expression brightens. “Oh yeah, Caleb’s great,” he says, nodding. He holds up his phone. “I was actually just talking to him.”  
  
“I know,” Molly grinds through gritted teeth, tail flicking in irritation. He ignores Caduceus’ perplexed look and continues. “I get it, okay, we both have a thing for Caleb and whatever, I just—“ he sighs and combs his fingers through his wet hair, “—I assume he gave you the same talk and I’m not about to force him into anything but I can’t just let it go either. Because I know some people think I’m just here to screw around but it’s not like that. Not with him.” He flushes faintly with the admission, cheeks growing warm. He’s not sure why he’s telling Caduceus all this, he supposes because he, better than anyone, would understand how easy it was to become infatuated with Caleb.

“Wait,” Caduceus says slowly, brow furrowed. “What do you mean ‘we both have a thing for Caleb’? Caleb is just—I mean, we’re friends.”  
  
It’s Molly’s turn to be confused now, frowning up at Caduceus as he seems to go through some inner turmoil. He can practically see the slow churn of cogs in his brain.  
  
“What do you—hang on, did you really not—oh my god.” Molly groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. He glances up at Caduceus, who looks like he’s just come to a startling realization, lips hanging slightly open and eyes glazed.  
  
“Oh,” he murmurs, not paying attention to Molly and blinking a little distantly.  
  
"Great," Molly mutters. "Alright well, now that _that’s_ out of the way,” he continues, snapping Caduceus’ gaze back to him. “You should also know that I know about... how you’re—“ he glances at the students roaming the halls and lowers his voice, “— _better endowed_ than most. Beau told me and you should know, it doesn’t matter what you’re packing, I can do things with my tongue that’ll make him beg.” He opens his mouth and flicks his tongue across his teeth, smirking.  
  
“Packing?” Caduceus echoes, looking confused again. “I mean, I packed my lunch this morning but I’m not sure what... huh?”  
  
Molly closes his eyes briefly, praying for patience.  
  
“I’m done with this conversation,” he says. “Just don’t forget that I’m here too, yeah?” He smiles coolly. “It’ll be fun, hmm? A little friendly competition never hurt anyone.”  
  
He turns to leave, glancing back over his shoulder to give Caduceus one last pointed look before striding back out into the rain.  


* * *

  
It feels like someone has punched him in the stomach. He feels dizzy, overwhelmed, like the rush of sitting up too fast that sets his head spinning. Has he really missed it all this time? But how could he have known? He’s not exactly experienced in romance, has never given it much thought before.  
  
Is this why he feels so indescribably warm when he's with Caleb? The heavy glow that sits in his stomach for hours after he sees him? Is that what Caleb had meant; did he think this whole time that Caduceus had felt this way about him? _Had_ he felt this way the whole time and just misinterpreted his own feelings for fond friendship when it was actually so much more?  
  
He tells himself he needs to find Jester, she would know what to do, what with all the romance novels she’s constantly reading. He forces his feet to carry him the rest of the way to the dining hall where he's supposed to meet her, feeling as unsteady as if he'd just been drugged.  
  
She's sitting in the corner at their usual table, picking sprinkles off a cupcake and bobbing her head side to side as she pops them into her mouth, eyes fixed on her phone.  
  
"Caduceus!" she says when he sinks into the chair across from her. Her smile fades as she takes in his fraught expression. "What's wrong?"  
  
Caduceus takes a deep breath to try and regain his equilibrium but it doesn't help.  
  
"Caduceus?" She sounds worried now.  
  
"Jester," he begins nervously, "how do you, um, how do you know if you have a crush on someone?"  
  
Jester tilts her head to the side with a faintly confused look before her eyes go impossibly wide and a bright smile spreads across her face.  
  
"Caduceus!" she squeals, grabbing both his hands excitedly. "Do you have a crush on someone?! Who is it, tell me, tell me, tell me,  _tell meeeee_ —"  
  
"Shh," Caduceus shushes her quickly, glancing around and feeling himself flush.  
  
"Okay, okay, sorry," Jester whispers. She giggles and squeezes his fingers. "Who is it?"  
  
Caduceus checks again to make sure no one is looking at them. "Caleb," he mutters miserably.  
  
Jester lets out an almost silent, high-pitched squeal, like a balloon letting out air.  
  
"I knew it!" she breathes, bouncing in her seat. "I knew it, and after the party, I knew you were going to realize it. Did he say something, did _you_ say something, are you getting _married_ now?" She clenches her hands into fists and holds them to her face, practically vibrating with excitement.  
  
"Jester," he says hopelessly, ears drooping, "I basically just told him I only see him as a friend."  
  
Jester's hands drop to the table, brow furrowing in a perplexed look.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Because," Caduceus begins. He sighs and tucks his hair absently behind one ear. "I didn't think—Jester, you know I've never—" He lets out a quiet, frustrated sound. "He asked me to come to his office and he apologized for the way he behaved at the party. He said it wasn't appropriate and I said I didn't see anything wrong with it because I thought it was just, you know, two friends smoking. I didn't—" he trails off, heaving another despondent sigh, and Jester clucks her tongue sympathetically.  
  
"Anyway," Caduceus continues, "he thinks I don't have any feelings for him and I wouldn't have even realized it myself if Mollymauk hadn't—"  
  
"What? Molly?" Jester cuts across him, eyes narrowing. "What does he have to do with this?"  
  
"He just came up to me in the hall and told me something about not giving up on Caleb and that he knew we both have a thing for him and—" he runs one hand distractedly over his chin, "—if _he_ saw it before I did. Am I really that oblivious?"  
  
“Well, first of all,” Jester says with a faint scowl. “Ignore what Molly says. And second of all. Caduceus,” she takes his hands in her own again in a comforting gesture, “you’re not oblivious. You said yourself you’ve never felt like this about someone, how would you have known? I think you two would be so sweet together.” She smiles mischievously. “Do you really like him a lot?”  
  
Caduceus smiles in spite of everything as his stomach squirms pleasantly at the thought of Caleb. “Yeah,” he mutters, ducking his head and praying he doesn’t look as hopelessly infatuated as he feels.  
  
Jester beams almost proudly.  
  
“Does he make you all warm and fuzzy?” she says, sighing dreamily.  
  
“Um, yeah, a little,” Caduceus mumbles.  
  
She lets out another quiet, excited squeak.  
  
"You should invite him to do something this weekend. Just, you know, real casual and then you make your move when he's least expecting it." She has a faintly wild look in her eyes and Caduceus leans away from her a few inches.  
  
"We're actually going book shopping Saturday," he says warily. "But I'm not planning on making any moves."  
  
" _Boriiiing,_ " Jester groans, pulling a face. "But I guess it's a start. Oo, can you see if there's anything by that lady who wrote _Tusk Love_ for me?"  
  
Caduceus grimaces but nods reluctantly and she makes a pleased noise.  
  
“Did you know?” he says when she releases his hands to return to her cupcake. "That I liked him? Before I did?"  
  
She gives him a faintly guilty look. “I suspected,” she says. She smiles slyly. “I was putting in a good word for you with Caleb last time I was hanging out with Nott and he was there. But you did a pretty good job on your own from what I hear.”  
  
She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and Caduceus groans in embarrassment, blushing as he remembers the events of two nights before. Remembers Caleb’s warm weight in his lap and the way he’d leaned into him, breath tickling the side of his neck. He wonders if Caleb had felt something then or if everything really had been because of the alcohol. He finds he feels a painful ache of disappointment in his chest at the thought. He’d never really wanted to go to that party anyway, but seeing Caleb had calmed his nerves and made for the most he’d ever enjoyed one of the parties Jester convinced him to go to, the thought that Caleb regretted the evening leaves a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
Jester leans across the table towards him conspiratorially. “Is it true that you _kissed_ him?” she says excitedly.  
  
Caduceus flushes darker at the memory of Caleb’s mouth against his own, of how he’d tasted like lime and how wonderfully soft his lips had been.  
  
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I mean... I don’t think it counted. Our mouths didn’t really move and I don’t think it was supposed to be a kiss. Does that count?”  
  
Jester scrunches her nose up in consideration.  
  
“Maybe not,” she says, sounding disappointed.  
  
“Do you count that time Fjord gave you mouth to mouth because you fell in the pool a kiss?”  
  
“Oh, well, you know, I don’t know.” She flicks her hair back and smoothes the front of her dress down in a would-be nonchalant gesture, though Caduceus sees the faint flush on her freckled cheeks.  
  
She sighs a little forlornly, resting her chin on her hand. “I guess not,” she grumbles.  
  
“It doesn’t matter anyway now, though,” Caduceus says gloomily, shoulders slumping. “He doesn’t feel that way about me and he’s not going to.”  
  
Jester reaches across the table to pat his hand reassuringly.  
  
“Don’t you worry about that,” she says, “I’ve got a plan.”  
  
“Jester,” Caduceus warns, giving her a suspicious look, “what are you going to do?”  
  
“I said don’t worry about it,” Jester says mysteriously, flapping her hand dismissively. “Just let Jester take care of everything. And make sure you're free on Friday, we need to go shopping.”  
  
Caduceus sighs. He’s not sure if he should feel worried or not. With Jester, he thinks probably so, but a small part of him thinks he’d willingly go along with one of her crazy schemes if it’ll work, so he remains silent. 

* * *

 

Nott is waiting for him on the couch when he returns from Molly’s dorm later that evening, watching him with silent expectation as he takes off his coat and shoes.

“How did it go?” she says when he drops into the seat next to her, gratefully accepting the plate of food she pushes towards him on the coffee table. 

“It was… surprising fine,” he says. “No, really,” he insists when she looks disbelieving. Apart from Beau spending half their linguistics class boring a hole in the side of his head with her eyes—Caleb had been quick to leave before she could interrogate him—the rest of his day had passed surprisingly smoothly. 

He’s still a little thrown off by how demure Molly had been the entire time Caleb had been in his dorm that evening, especially after what he’d told Caleb that morning. He’d expected at least some of the familiar flirtation from him. But Molly had been weirdly serious for the almost two hours they’d spent together, diligently working with Caleb on studying for his upcoming exam the following week without so much as a suggestive comment or brush of his fingers on Caleb’s arm that could be construed as accidental when Caleb knew it wasn’t. It was almost off-putting with how unlike Molly it was. And Caleb had told him as much.

“Mollymauk. I know what I said this morning but you do not have to act like we are not even friends,” he said when Molly had actually gone so far as to call him _sir_ at one point.

“Oh, thank god,” Molly had said, immediately relaxing back against the side of his bed frame where they were seated on the floor across from each other. “It’s _exhausting_ being that dull.”

He’d loosened up after that, but was still careful not to sit too close or make any overtly lewd comments, though occasionally Caleb would catch him watching him out of the corner of his eye with an unreadable expression, the tip of his pen resting lightly against his lips. 

“Everything went… fine,” Caleb says. “I believe we are mostly on the same page.”

Nott hums, looking faintly relieved. “And Caduceus?”

Caleb feels that same cold weight sink in his chest at the mention of him.

“Oh, um, it was just a misunderstanding. He doesn’t actually have any feelings for me,” he mutters. He forces a laugh that sounds fake even to his own ears. “Lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s good, right?” Nott says. Caleb can feel her watching him closely. “That’s what you wanted?” There’s an inflection in her voice that’s somewhere between doubt and concern.

Caleb makes a noncommittal noise in his throat and takes a bite of food so he doesn’t have to answer beyond that. 

“I have to work at nine so I gotta get going.” She smiles reassuringly and gives his arm a comforting squeeze. “You’re okay, yeah? Do you need me to call off? You’ve got that look.”

“No, no,” Caleb says, schooling his face into something less introspective. “I’m fine. Really.”

Her eyes search his face one last time before she smiles and gives his hand a final squeeze before pushing herself to her feet. 

“Get some sleep, yeah?” she says, tugging on her coat and boots. “You deserve it.”

Caleb nods, raising a hand in farewell as she leaves. He finishes eating and goes to the kitchen to feed Frumpkin and set his plate in the sink before heading back to his room to get changed and crawl into bed on his stomach. He pulls out his phone and stares at his messages for a long minute, thumb hovering over the top two conversations.

 _Bad idea,_ a little voice whispers in the back of his head as he clicks open the text thread he has with Molly and scrolls back until he finds the picture Molly had sent him Saturday. He rolls onto his back, holding his phone a few inches from his face as he skims his fingertips just above the screen over the line over Molly’s clavicle. 

_What are you doing?_

“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers still lingering on the screen. Heat stirs low in his groin and for one wild moment he considers chasing it, considers closing his eyes and trying to relieve some of the tension that seems to have permanently settled in his shoulders even if it’s the exact opposite of what he’s spent his day trying to do.

He groans in frustration and tosses his phone onto the bed, scrubbing his hands down his face.

“What _am_ I doing?” he grumbles.

He stares up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his stomach and chewing at the inside of his cheek. He swears quietly as he pushes himself up off the bed and moves to lock the door before settling back on the mattress again and lifting his phone to pull up the picture, ignoring the voice in the back of his head still telling him this is a bad idea.

That same curl of heat returns easily as his eyes flick over Molly’s sweat-damp skin, his slick fingers and hooded eyes. He’d done that. Not directly, but Molly had thought of him when he’d touched himself. He wonders what Molly had sounded like, if he’d called out his name when he’d climaxed. The thought makes him feel a little dizzy with arousal.

He bites down on his bottom lip as his fingers trail lightly down his stomach, eyes fluttering shut as he cups himself through his pants and squeezes gently. He’s already half-hard, breath stuttering out through his lips as he rubs his fingers over his length, eyes half-lidded and fixed on his phone.

He slips his hand beneath his boxers to wrap around himself, groaning quietly at the contact. He’s been stopping himself from doing this to try and maintain some modicum of denial, but his body is aching for touch and he thinks this is safer than the alternative, than giving in to the real thing. That’s what he tells himself at least, though he’s beginning to think he’s not as good at lying to himself as he wants to be. 

Setting his phone on the bed next to him, he fumbles in his side table for the bottle of lubricant he keeps hidden under several books in case Nott ever happened to be looking for something. His fingers are shaky as he pops the cap open, shoving his pants down his hips with his other hand before dribbling lube onto his fingers.

He swears under his breath and cants his hips up when he grips himself again, fucking up into the slick warmth of his hand and letting his eyes slide shut. The image of Molly hovering over him presents itself easily, eyes dark and hungry, that teasing smirk, forked tongue running over his teeth. Caleb can still feel his hands on his hips, the warmth of his skin under his mouth tasting of salt, his words rough and needy in his ear.

_I’m going to make you feel so fucking good._

Caleb stuffs his knuckles into his mouth and bites down hard to keep from moaning brokenly. He plants his feet on the bed, legs trembling as he thrusts roughly into his own hand, imagining those slender, manicured fingers wrapped around him instead. He wonders how Molly would touch him, if he’d build him up slowly and make him beg to come, or be fast and rough and hungry. He’s not sure which sounds more appealing at the moment. He jerks his fist in quick, unsteady strokes, his breath rasping out his lungs, sweat beading on his forehead and blood pumping hot through his veins.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he whines, head tipping back into the pillows as he rubs his thumb over the leaking head of his cock. He can practically hear that soft, tempting chuckle in his ear, see Molly’s coquettish grin behind his closed lids, those bright crimson eyes scorching into him like he’s about to be devoured.

But then it’s not red, not eager and greedy hands running over his skin and cock. It’s soft, fond pink peering through pale eyelashes, long fingers guiding him gently towards his orgasm.

_I’ve got you._

He can hear Caduceus’ voice, quiet and warm in his ear and his eyes fly open as his orgasm rushes through him, every muscle in his body tensing as he chokes out a quiet moan. His dick twitches in his hand as come splatters across his stomach and drips down his fingers. His limbs go boneless and he flops back onto the mattress, panting heavily, head spinning as that light-heavy rush of endorphins floods his system.

He gropes for the tissues on his side table, grimacing as he wipes himself clean and tugs his pants and boxers back up over his softening cock.

“ _Scheisse_ ,” he mutters dazedly, shaking his head a little as a wave of sudden exhaustion hits him.

He stares up at the ceiling, watching the lights of a passing car sweep over the room before it goes dark again.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ ” he groans, dragging his hand down his face. “ _Why did you do that_?”

He glances at his phone where it’s lying discarded on the bed beside him and scowls.

“You are an idiot,” he grumbles at himself.

He tries not to think about how he’s supposed to face Molly after that, face _Caduceus_ after that, just the thought makes his face burn with shame. He hates how relaxed his body feels, loose and lax and fuzzy, when his brain is screaming at him for what he just did. He sighs and rolls onto his side so his back is to his phone, taking Nott’s advice and quickly falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t hate my purple son he’s emotionally inept and doing his best.
> 
> As always, thank you thank you thank you for your wonderful comments! I’m still sick af so it really does make me feel a lil better. Playlists have been updated for this chapter:
> 
> Caduceus: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6KtlFqamabc6n40tw3kFcv  
> Molly: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dtLgEt6a81XScs8C2fc5M


	10. Chapter 10

The remainder of the week passes without incident until Friday morning when he reluctantly heads to the library to meet Beau for their weekly tutoring session. He’s managed to avoid her so far since the party, not keen on getting the third degree about what happened that night, especially after he’d used Molly for his own lewd fantasies, he thinks she could probably read it on his face if she tried.

She’s waiting for him at their usual table when he arrives, leaning her chair back on two legs and balancing her pen on end on her forehead, arms held straight out to her sides to maintain her balance.

“Good morning, Beauregard,” he mutters as he takes his seat and sets his bag down. Her chair lands on all four legs with a muffled _thump_ on the carpet and she scrambles to catch her pen before it can fall.

“Dammit,” she grouses. “I was almost to fifteen seconds.” She sighs and tosses her pen on the table before leaning towards Caleb with a scowl. “So are you going to talk to me now or are just going to ignore me for the next hour and a half?”

“I’m not sure what there is to talk about,” Caleb replies a little stiffly, slipping his book out of his bag and flipping it to the most recently covered section.

Beau scoffs and rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Dude, cut the crap.” She reaches out to shut Caleb’s book again and he stills, frowning as he looks up at her. “What the hell is going on with you and Molly? And! _And_ you and Caduceus!”

“Nothing is going on with me and either of them,” Caleb says, willing his traitorous brain not to think about what he’d done Monday. He’d barely been able to look Molly or Caduceus in the eye during their tutoring sessions that week, shame burning across his face each time Caduceus gave him that warm, familiar smile. Molly had looked at him oddly a few times when Caleb felt himself flushing any time their knees accidentally bumped together, but thankfully he’d kept silent, apparently still holding to his word of keeping his distance at Caleb’s request.

Caleb pushes Beau’s hand off his book and flips it back open again. “I don’t know if you have talked to Mollymauk about this but this has already been resolved with him _and_ Caduceus directly. And I would appreciate it—“ he can feel his voice rising slightly out of sheer annoyance and he lowers it back to a whisper, “—if everyone would keep their noses out of my business.”

“I don’t give a shit about your business, Caleb,” Beau hisses, “but Molly, as annoying as he is, is my friend, too. So I care about _his_ business.”

“If he is your friend, then you would know this matter has already been discussed.”

“Yeah, he told me what you said,” Beau says, pulling a face. “And I think it’s a load of crap. Unfortunately for my eyes, I had to see you both about five seconds from fucking in my kitchen last week and I saw the way you two looked at each other. Any person in that room could see it better than you apparently. You’re really going to just ignore that for some made up moral guidelines you set yourself?”

Caleb’s hands flutter restlessly in midair for a moment as anxiety begins to worm its way into his brain.

“You are not _listening to me_ ,” he says, voice wavering with distress. “Mollymauk and I have already discussed this. It’s done, finished, _vollendet,_ no longer up for debate, so can we _please_ just—“ he gestures desperately at his open textbook, giving her a pleading look.

She looks like she still wants to argue, jaw set and brow furrowed, but she eventually lets out a quiet, annoyed sound and looks away from him to open her own textbook. Caleb relaxes back in his seat as the nervous energy slowly drains out of him.

“By the way,” Beau begins, still frowning faintly. “Jester and I are having a movie night next Friday. If you want to come. We’re going to watch a shitty romcom and make fun of it.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll make fun of it. Jester will probably think it’s the best, she always does.” She wrinkles her nose but there’s a fond exasperation to her tone as she says it.

She’s not looking at him, eyes fixed unmoving on her open book, and Caleb takes it as the apology it’s intended to be.

“Sure,” he says brusquely. “Did Jester invite Nott as well?”

“Yeah, she said she’s working,” Beau replies, sparing him a half-glance.

“So it’ll just be the three of us,” Caleb says absently.

Beau grunts in response and he’s not sure he likes the way she suddenly bends over her notes so he can’t read her expression but he has no interest in starting another argument so he lets it go and turns his focus to his notes from their last lecture. He tries not to think too much on the fact that Molly had talked about their conversation with Beau. Part of him is itching to ask her what exactly Molly had said about him. But the bigger part of him, the part that wants things simple, straightforward, uncomplicated, knows what a bad idea that is, so he tamps down his curiosity and keeps his mouth shut on the matter.

* * *

The air is cold and crisp when he leaves his apartment Saturday to meet Caduceus just off-campus to walk to the book shop together. It’s mid-morning, the sky overhead a pale, cloudless blue, a welcome change from a week of neverending dreary grey clouds and rain that petered on and off into sleet and snow. It’s still cold, but not bitterly so, and he forgoes his usual thick scarf in favor of a warm, knit turtleneck sweater under his coat.

Caduceus isn’t there when he arrives and he glances at his phone to check the time out of habit, watching his breath rise in a little cloud with each exhale. He looks up when he hears the crunch of approaching footsteps and automatically lifts a hand in greeting to Caduceus, who waves back, smiling.

Caleb’s hand drops at his side, eyes still fixed on Caduceus and widening a little at the sight of him. Because Caduceus does not look like what Caleb has grown accustomed to. His goatee is neatly trimmed, his hair cut a few inches shorter and brushed neatly to one side in gentle waves rather than verging on unkempt or pulled back in a bun. It’s the clothes that throw him off the most, though. Each time Caleb has seen him, he’s been dressed in some variation of loose sweatshirts or t-shirts and baggy jeans or sweatpants. Instead, he’s dressed in a soft-looking fitted cream and blue sweater and a pair of dark jeans that just barely hug his long legs—not like the skintight pants Molly wears, but nothing like his usual attire. The rush of shameful guilt he feels for thinking of Caduceus while getting himself off is quickly being overthrown by the part of his brain that’s logging away the image for possible future use.

“Good morning,” Caduceus says cheerfully when he reaches Caleb, stopping a few feet from him on the sidewalk.

“Good morning,” Caleb responds, eyes flicking down to Caduceus feet and up again. “You look—“ _good, really good, ridiculously good_ , “—different.”

“Oh, yeah,” Caduceus says, looking down at himself and pulling a wry face. “Jester took me shopping yesterday. Gave me a haircut too. She said I was looking too much like a dirty hippie.”

“How kind of her,” Caleb says. There’s a tickle of suspicion in the back of his brain on hearing this after how much Jester had hinted at the idea pushing the two of them closer.

Caduceus laughs and shrugs, absently brushing his fingers through his hair. “Well, she wasn’t too far off, I guess.”

“You look very, ah, nice,” Caleb says carefully. Nice is safe.

Caduceus gives him a look somewhere between relieved and pleased. “Thank you,” he says. “Should we get going?”

Caleb hums in assent and they set off down the sidewalk together. Caleb is careful to keep a few feet between them as they walk, chatting amiably about classes and the weather. Caleb is relieved that there is no awkward air between them, that the ebb and flow of conversation continues as easily as it did between the party. He can’t help the dull throb of pain he feels in his chest when Caduceus laughs, low and warm, or catches his eye and smiles, like a prodding touch to a fresh bruise. It’s silly, he knows, but he thinks perhaps that he’d been so sure of the idea that there had been the _possibility_ of something, that finding out there was actually nothing was more painful than he’d expected. He supposes that makes him more selfish than anything given the circumstances.

The bookshop is a long, narrow building sandwiched between a laundromat and a bakery, its slightly grimy front windows full of old leather bound tomes, one displaying a flyer for a local book club that meets there every week, the worn sign over the door reading _Boundless Books_ in neat letters. The bell above the door tinkles merrily over Caleb’s head as he steps inside, the familiar, musty smell of old paper hitting his nose. There’s a soft thunk behind him followed by quiet “ _ow_ ” and he glances back to see Caduceus wincing and rubbing his reddening temple as the door swings shut behind him.

Caleb frowns at him curiously. “Did you just...?”

“This is one of the downsides of being tall,” Caduceus mutters sheepishly.

Caleb laughs and walks back to him. “Come here,” he says, gesturing for Caduceus to lean down to his level. He brushes his thumb carefully over the slight bump when he complies, tutting sympathetically.

“I think you’ll make it,” he says, patting Caduceus on the cheek.

Caduceus chuckles as he straightens back up, looking over Caleb’s head to the long row of narrow shelves behind him and along the walls, all crammed tightly with books. There’s an elderly man behind the register watching them with a vaguely suspicious look over his square glasses.

“ _Guten Morgen,_ grandfather,” Caleb says, nodding at him. The man makes a quiet _tsk_ sound but doesn’t respond otherwise as he turns back to sorting through the pile of books sitting on the counter.

“Come on,” Caleb murmurs, gesturing for Caduceus to follow him as he sets off down the aisle that runs from one end of the shop to the other along the shelves, their footsteps near silent on the thick, dusty carpet. He glances at the little placards labeling the shelves as they go, pausing when he reaches one labeled _Cookbooks and Crafts._

“Perhaps here?” he says quietly, glancing over his shoulder at Caduceus as he steps between the shelves. “Is there something particular you are looking for?”

“I’m not really sure,” Caduceus replies, leaning down slightly so he can peer at the titles along the top shelf, brow furrowed. Caleb watches his eyes scan the spines slowly, smiling at the minute shifts in his expression, the slight lift in his eyebrows or wrinkle in his nose as he reads.

“Do you mind if I look at the foreign literature section for a moment?” Caleb says when Caduceus picks up a book about vegetarian cooking and flips through it will mild interest. “They usually have a decent selection of books in German.”

“No, go ahead,” Caduceus responds, only half looking up from the book as he says it.

“I’ll be right back,” Caleb says, touching Caduceus’ elbow briefly before padding back to the main aisle and down a few rows. He scans the shelves absently for titles in German, thumbing through a few that catch his eye. It’s still and silent in the shop apart from the rustle of pages as he flips through books. He thinks he could live in a place like this, surrounded by the smell of old paper and cracked leather, whiling the days away reading with Frumpkin curled in his lap.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he sets the book he’s holding back on the shelf as he slips it out to look at the screen.

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: catspotting_

There’s a picture attached of the same fluffy black cat Molly had sent him a picture of a few weeks before, only Molly’s folded legs visible with the cat seated on his lap. The cat is looking up at the camera with the same disinterested look it had in the last picture, it’s paws tucked up under itself so it looks like a furry loaf of bread.

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: I’ve named her Yasha_

_**Mollymauk Tealeaf** :_ _because they’re both grumps_

Caleb laughs softly as he types out a reply.

**_Caleb_** _: I wouldn’t tell her that_

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: Who? Yasha or the cat?_

_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ : _Yasha 2 says she doesn’t mind_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _although, to be fair, she doesn’t seem to have a wide emotional range so I could be misinterpreting_

Another picture pops up in the thread, this one of Molly holding the cat against his cheek and matching its sullen expression, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. It’s cuter than Caleb cares to admit.

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: Now you send one with Frumpkin_

**_Caleb_** _: I can’t, I’m not home right now_

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: Oh?_

**_Caleb_** _: shopping for books_

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf_** _: Of COURSE that’s what you’re doing_

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _you’re adorable_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _you are the one sending pictures of cats to me_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _oh, is that all I have to do? Well if I’d have known_

His phone is silent for a moment before several more pictures come through of Molly holding the cat and pulling faces at the camera. Caleb stifles a snort of laughter into his hand, feeling a little flutter of fondness when a final picture pops up on his screen, this one of Molly laying back in the grass with his head turned to the side, face scrunched up as the cat cranes from its position next to him to touch its black nose to his.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _thoughts?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _very cute_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _the cat, I mean_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _D:_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _T-T_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I’m keeping her all to myself then_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _no more kitty pictures for you_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _:(_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I’m just kidding_

A picture pops up of Molly kissing the cat on the head.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _:)_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _so book shopping?”_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _finding anything good?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _not yet, I’m still looking_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: sending you good luck vibes ☆_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: I gotta go, I think Yasha 2 is hungry_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: can cats eat falafel?_

 **_Caleb_ ** _: I would not recommend it_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: I’ll find her something. See you Monday, darling ;-Y_

Caleb responds with a thumbs up before tucking his phone back in his pocket and returning to scanning through the rest of the books. He lets out a quiet sound of triumph when he spots a copy of _Grimms' Fairy Tales_ tucked amongst the other books, leafing through its brittle pages carefully and smiling fondly at the memory of his parents reading to him until he fell asleep when he was little. He tucks the book under his arm and trails his hand along the rest of the books on the shelf, plucking a few old history books and a book of poetry that catches his eye before deciding he's done enough damage to his wallet and setting off to find Caduceus. He frowns when he peers down the aisle he'd left him in only to find it empty, glancing to the front register but not seeing him there either. He stands on his toes and cranes his neck with the hope of seeing him over the shelves but even then they raise half a foot over his head.

"Caduceus?" he says in a near whisper, poking his head down the next row of shelves. He walks towards the back of the cramped shop, peering down the silent aisles as he goes, the sound of his footsteps muffled on the worn carpet.

He pauses when he sees a row labeled _Hobbies_ and his eye catches several books with with the names of plants and flowers on the spines. Glancing briefly up and down the aisle, he ducks between the bookcases and looks over the books clumped together on the top few shelves. There’s one on the highest shelf that catches his attention about the history of plant cultivation, its spine worn and ripped in a few spots, and he reaches for it. He huffs in frustration when he can’t quite get his fingers around it where’s it's wedged tightly between two other books, barely able to reach the bottom of the shelf much less the top to slide the book out from there.

He settles back on heels and pulls a face, glancing along the row for a step ladder and thinking vaguely that this is exactly where Caduceus’ height would come in handy.

“Caduceus?” he calls out again, a little louder this time as he steps back into the aisle, mentally marking where the book had been as he continues towards the far end of the narrow room.

When he reaches the back of the shop, glancing automatically into the little room with _Adult Literature, 18+ Only_ pasted above the doorway, he does a double take when he spots a familiar shock of pink hair in the far corner of the room. He frowns, looking up at the sign again then back at Caduceus where he's running his index finger along the spine of a book, which he slides from the shelf and turns over in his hand before replacing it.

"Okay," Caleb mutters, "Not what I expected." He enters the room and clears his throat so Caduceus knows he's approaching. Caduceus looks over his shoulder at him as he's pulling another book off the shelf.

"Oh, hey," he says quietly, smiling as Caleb comes up behind him. "Find anything good?"

"Yeah," Caleb says, holding up his stack of books. He glances at the book in Caduceus hands. " _The Salty Sea_ ," he reads, squinting at the cover. "You know, I did not picture this as the type of book you were looking for but if that's what you're into."

Caduceus gives him a confused look before his eyes flick down to the book—which has a highly colored painting of two men on the bow of a ship, both shirtless and clinging to each other—and a horrified expression comes over his face.

"Oh, no, no no no," he says in a rush, color flooding his face. "This, um, Jester asked me to—it's not—" he puts the book back on the shelf quickly, not meeting Caleb's eyes and looking quietly mortified.

Caleb bites back a grin, reaching past him to pluck the book up himself and flipping through the pages.

"Are you sure you don't want this one?" he says teasingly, holding it open to him and tapping the page. "There's a really great passage in here about—" he glances at the page again, "—coxswain."

Caduceus takes the book back from him and shoves it onto the shelf, glaring moodily as Caleb snorts. He ducks his head in embarrassment and walks quickly back out into the main section of the store, Caleb jogging after him, still laughing quietly under his breath. He almost runs into Caduceus' back when he stops suddenly, taking a step back when Caduceus turns to face him.

He's still scowling faintly, but the effect is lessened by the color staining his cheeks and how foreign the expression looks on his features. Caleb has to tilt his head back to meet his eyes he's so close, towering over him and giving him a contemplative look. The proximity sets off a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, somehow both pleasant and unnerving all at once.

Caduceus raises his arm and Caleb takes a half step back, starting when his back hits the shelf of books behind him. The challenging grin slides off his face and he stills when Caduceus' hand settles against the books next to his head and he leans down towards him, eyes not leaving Caleb's face. Caleb grips the edge of the shelf behind him, pulse quickening and throat bobbing as he swallows.

Then Caduceus is looking away from him and pulling a book from the shelf, holding it up for him to see as he straightens up again, smiling faintly.

" _The Secret Life of Trees_ ," Caleb reads almost automatically off the cover.

"I think this might be a little more my speed," Caduceus says. He cracks the book open and flips through it, seemingly unaware of Caleb’s racing heartbeat. He shuts the book and holds it up. “What do you think?”

“Uh, _ja_ ,” Caleb mutters, nodding. “ _Ja, das_ —that’s good. Do you… is there anything else you want?” The double meaning behind his own words isn’t lost on him.

Caduceus wrinkles his nose in consideration.

“I think this will keep me busy for awhile,” he says. He taps the book against Caleb's own small stack. "Come on, if we take the long way we can grab tea, my treat." He turns and sets off towards the register and Caleb exhales shakily as he sags back against the shelf.

"Are you coming?" Caduceus says, pausing to glance back at him with a questioning look.

" _Ja_ ," Caleb mutters, gripping his books and following after him down the dusty shelves.

 _Get it together,_ he scolds himself, eyes fixed on Caduceus’ back as he follows him back towards the front of the shop. _You are acting like a lovesick teenager. Dummkopf._

“Ah, Caduceus, one moment,” he calls after him in a whisper, jogging to catch up. Caduceus pauses and gives him a curious look and Caleb gestures down the row where he’d seen the book.

“I saw a book I thought you might enjoy,” Caleb says, “I could not reach it, though, perhaps you could—if it interests you.”

“Sure,” Caduceus says, lighting up as Caleb leads him between the shelves and gestures up at the book in question.

Caduceus reaches it easily, sliding from its spot and turning it over in his hands. He flips through a few pages, pausing to look at some of the detailed illustrations before smiling warmly up at Caleb.

“I think I’ll get this one instead,” he says, sounding pleased. “Thank you, Caleb.”

“Of course,” Caleb replies, a proud, pleased feeling swelling in chest with the knowledge that he’d helped bring that look of avid interest to Caduceus’ face. “That’s why I am here, right?”

“I’ll just put this one back,” Caduceus holds up the other book. “One sec.”

He ambles off down the row and disappears around the corner towards the back of the shop and Caleb leans back against the nearest bookcase, closing his eyes and swearing under his breath.

 _This is dangerous_.

_You’re being stupid again._

_What exactly do you expect to happen here?_

_He doesn’t even want you._

He shakes his head and grinds his palms into his eyes, ignoring the doubtful voice creeping into the back of his head. Caduceus returns a few seconds later, pausing at the end of the row for Caleb to join him so they can head to the register together.

He pays for his books once Caduceus has paid for his, grimacing at how thin his wallet is when he’s finished. They step back out outside, Caduceus ducking his head carefully to avoid the low lintel and giving Caleb an inquiring look once they’re on the sidewalk.

“Tea?” he offers, pulling out his phone to confirm directions when Caleb makes an agreeable sound.

“ _Caduceus_?!”

Caduceus glances up at the sound of his name, Caleb following suite as it’s followed by an excited squeal of, “oh my god!”

“Oh no,” Caduceus says so quietly Caleb almost doesn’t hear him, following his almost stricken gaze to the doorway of the bakery next door where a tall firbolg woman with a striking resemblance to Caduceus is staring at them with stunned disbelief. She hurries towards them, letting her bags drop to the ground so she can pull Caduceus into a crushing hug, prattling excitedly as she does.

“Oh my god, what are the odds?!” she cries, pulling back and holding Caduceus’ face in both hands, looking him over. “I was going to text you and let you know I was back in town so we could get lunch! I just got done doing a cake tasting, do _not_ recommend that place, but, you know, D said we should try it and of course she couldn’t leave work until noon so I had to go myself. Oh my god, you’re so skinny! What did I say about eating better, you know what Mom would say. But you finally started dressing like an adult, you look so handsome, Caddy! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, you have to get lunch with me, we have so much to catch up on!” She squeezes his face between her hands and lets out an excited squeak, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It’s only then she seems to notice Caleb is there, eyes scanning him with the same scrutiny he’s seen Caduceus wear, though it makes him feel vaguely uneasy rather than comfortable.

“Hi!” she says brightly, letting go of Caduceus so she can thrust her hand in Caleb’s direction. “I’m Claribel, Caddy’s big sister. Although I’m sure he’s told you all about me.”

“Erm—“

“You should come have lunch with us!” Her handshake is firm and brief and she quickly turns her attention back to Caduceus. It’s only now that Caleb gets a chance to get a good look at her. She’s slightly shorter than Caduceus though still much taller than Caleb, thin and willowy with long magenta hair tumbling past her shoulders. She has the same bright pink eyes as Caduceus, though, sharp and inquisitive but not nearly as warm.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” she says, grinning as she elbows Caduceus lightly in the side.

“Caleb,” Caleb says before Caduceus can speak. He looks slightly panicked and Caleb wonders if he too feels like he’s just been caught in a whirlwind. “Widogast. It’s nice to meet you.”

" _Caleb_?" she gives Caduceus an oddly pointed look that Caleb can't parse before scooping up her bags again. "Well, Caleb, will you let me treat the two of you to lunch? I know _he's_ — _"_ she jerks her head in Caduceus' direction, "—not busy, his only hobby is growing weird plants in his room."

"Clara, I'm sure he's got better things to d—"

"I am free," Caleb says, cutting across Caduceus, who gives him an almost apprehensive look.

"Fantastic!" Claribel says happily, clapping her hands together and setting off down the sidewalk without another word. "There's a cute little cafe a few blocks from here, I think I took you there once, Caddy, the place with the green tile on the walls, they've got a great vegan menu."

"Oh, yeah," Caduceus says, though he looks at Caleb and mouths, " _I have no idea,_ " behind her back, shaking his head.

Caleb suppresses a laugh into his hand, slowing for a moment to put a few more feet between them and Claribel and leaning toward Caduceus, who ducks his head down towards him.

"Is this the one who pushed you down the stairs?" he mutters.

"That's her," Caduceus responds, sighing. "I'm so sorry in advance for anything she says to you. Claribel is not known for her tact."

"She is very different from you," Caleb says. "If not for the family resemblance, I would be surprised to find you were related."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"What do you think?" Caleb grins and Caduceus looks faintly mollified as he straightens up when Claribel glances back at them.

"So did you two meet at school?" she says, looking between them.

"Caleb is helping me with my chemistry class," Caduceus answers, pulling a face like he regrets his honesty when Claribel coos.

"You never were so good with that stuff, huh?" she says with a fond smile. She looks to Caleb. "But if you want help with flower arrangements or, uh, what species of wild mushrooms won't kill you, he's your guy."

“Caduceus is very smart,” Caleb interjects. “He is a fast learner.” He can feel Caduceus looking at him and he flashes him a quick, encouraging smile.

“Thank you,” Caduceus mutters when Claribel has turned around again.

“It’s true,” Caleb replies, smiling as he bumps his elbow lightly against Caduceus’ arm.

Caduceus’ smile widens and Caleb looks down at his feet as his cheek grow warm.

Claribel leads them to a quaint little cafe a ten-minute walk from the bookshop, the pale wood floors and emerald green tiled walls in combination with the broad-leafed potted plants at the entry giving it an oddly tropical atmosphere. They're seated at a table by the front window, Caduceus immediately hiding behind his menu and sinking down in his seat a few inches. It's almost comical watching him try to shrink himself down while still sitting a full head over Caleb. Caleb nudges his foot with his own under the table, smiling reassuringly when he gives him an overwhelmed look.

"Whatever you guys want, my treat," Claribel says brightly as she peruses her own menu. She sets it down and looks to Caduceus. "By the way, Caddy, great recommendation on those cherry blossoms, Delilah loved them with the peonies so we're going with that and the sweet peas. Did you get your suit yet or are you waiting for Dad and Cas?"

"Mom already got it," Caduceus mutters. "She got theirs last week so she just matched it."

"Twenty-two and still letting Mom get his clothes," she says, shaking her head at Caleb with fond exasperation. "Isn't he adorable?"

"Oh, um—"

Caleb is saved having to answer as the waiter approaches to get their orders. He glances at Caduceus, whose eyes are still fixed unmoving on his menu, lips pursed in a faint scowl.

"What about you, Caleb?" Claribel says, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them as she peers across the table at Caleb. "Now, I know that accent is not native. What is it, German?"

"Ah, _ja_ ," Caleb replies, nodding. "I've lived here for a while, though."

"What's your major?"

Caleb finds it hard to meet her eye as talks, fidgeting under her scrutiny. "I double major in biochemistry and history," he says, pretending to read over his menu as she gives him a bewildered look.

"And he's _smart,_ " she says inexplicably, reaching across the table to smack Caduceus lightly on the hand and grinning.

"So you are getting married soon?" Caleb says, keen to shift the subject off himself.

"End of April," she responds, smiling dreamily. "I can't wait. One because I am _so_ finished with the planning and two because I've been waiting six years to marry this woman since I finally convinced her, against all odds."

"Six _years_ ," Caleb echoes. "That is a long engagement."

"Well, she wanted to finish her doctorate," she says with another small sigh. Her phone buzzes on the table and she glances down at it, holding up a finger. "Oh, that's her, one sec." She answers the call and holds it up to her ear, mouthing an apology as she listens to the voice on the other end. "Hey! Yeah, I just left, it tasted like packing foam. No, I'm not just saying that because I was alone. Mm. I'm at lunch now, you'll never guess who I ran into. Caduceus! Yeah, I know! Yeah, he's with his—no, yeah, I know, I'll be there. I will, I promise! Okay, I'll see you there. Love you, too." She sets her phone down again and flashes them both a smile. "Sorry about that. She's been so frazzled with planning. I keep telling her I'd marry her in a barn if she’d let me but she didn't go for it."

She scrolls through her phone before holding it out to Caleb with a smile, showing him a picture of her alongside a plump woman with dark skin and short cropped hair.

“She’s very pretty,” Caleb offers as she pulls her phone back again.

“Isn’t she?” Claribel replies with a sigh. “Oh my god, hang on, I have to show you.” She grins, flipping through her phone for another few seconds before holding it back across the table to Caleb.

There’s a picture on the screen of what he assumes is a much younger Caduceus, maybe seven or eight, beaming at the camera and holding out his cupped hands to show off the fat, shiny beetle he’s holding. His hair is much shorter, a tangled mess of pink, mud smeared across his arms and cheeks. There’s a gap where one of his upper teeth is missing, the replacement adult tooth poking through his gums. It’s ridiculously cute.

“ _Clara_ ,” Caduceus grumbles, reaching out to try and snatch the phone from her fingers. His cheeks color pink.

She yanks her hand back before he can grab it though, clicking her tongue and wagging a finger scoldingly.

“It is my job as your big sister to do this,” she says haughtily. She scoots her chair around the table so she’s next to Caleb, tilting the phone secretively towards him as she shows him more pictures while Caduceus huffs angrily on his other side, muttering under his breath.

“Here’s right after Corrin was born,” she says, showing a picture of an even younger Caduceus, maybe five years old, holding a tiny bundle of blankets in his lap, a little tuft of purplish hair and a wet pink nose poking through them as Caduceus hugs his sister protectively. “And here’s when he won first prize at some rose festival—“ Adolescent Caduceus, thin and gangly, grinning and holding a flourishing rose bush, the pot tacked with a blue ribbon, “—Oh my gosh, and here’s the time Cas threw you in the lake last year, remember?” She glances at Caduceus, who glowers at her as Caleb looks at the picture. Caduceus looks almost the same as he does now, though he’s sopping wet, hair flopped over his face as he scowls darkly at something off camera.

“Damn,” Claribel mutters, frowning as she flicks through her pictures. “I don’t have the one from when Nana Clay made us all matching sweaters.” Caleb glances at Caduceus, whose eyes are wide with horror, and he’s torn between being mildly disappointed and feeling guilty at how distraught he seems over the whole ordeal.

“Oh well, you get the idea,” Claribel says as she slides her chair back away from him. “He was a cute little string bean.”

The waiter stops at their table then to set their food down and Caleb spares a glance at Caduceus, who has been almost silent since they sat down, frowning at his plate like it insulted him.

“So, Claribel, Caduceus, Corrin,” Caleb says, glancing between the two of them, pleased when Caduceus finally looks up at him. “Is this a thing in your family?”

Caduceus grimaces and Claribel lets out an annoyed groan.

“You have no idea,” she says, rolling her eyes. She shifts her chair closer to the table and leans one elbow on it. “So Dad is Cornelius, Mom is Calliope,” she begins, ticking off on her fingers. “Then it’s me, then Cassius, then Caddy, then Corrin.”

“It was kind of a tradition,” Caduceus mutters next to him.

“Cause, you know, being the weird kids from the graveyard wasn’t bad enough,” Claribel says, pulling a face and stabbing her fork into her salad. “Mom and Dad had to make us a matching set. I don’t know what they were smoking. Well, no, I do...” she trails off thoughtfully before shrugging. “At least I got Claribel. I mean, you should have heard some of the names people thought up for Caduceus.” She snickers and pokes Caduceus in the arm.

“ _You_ came up with half of them, _”_ Caduceus grumbles, his forehead creased in the faintest frown.

“All in good fun,” Claribel says airily, reaching across the table to pinch Caduceus’ cheek. “Besides,” she continues as she leans towards Caduceus and covers his hand with her own. “Dad is going to be _so excited_ about your first boyfriend being someone with a C name, the weirdo.” She glances at Caleb. “Fair warning, our family is a little bit out there. But I’m sure you know that already hanging out with Caddy." She winks at Caleb before turning excitedly back to Caduceus. "Oh my gosh, Caddy, did you invite him to the wedding yet? You need to, maybe it’ll keep Dad off my back.”

“Clara,” Caduceus mutters warningly, looking vaguely uncomfortable and not meeting Caleb’s glance in his direction.

Caleb, whose brain has been stuck on _first boyfriend_ for the last ten seconds, feels something cold drop into his stomach that he tells himself to ignore but that’s there nonetheless. Was he really that far off thinking Caduceus had feelings for him when, in reality, even the thought of it made him upset? He feels vaguely sick at the notion.

“We are not, um, together,” Caleb says, smiling stiffly when Claribel gives him a look of frank disbelief. “We’re just—“

“Friends,” Caduceus finishes for him. He smiles benignly at his sister. “Just friends.”

“ _Really_?” she says, looking between the two of them, eyebrows raised doubtfully. “You two would look really cute together, though.”

“Clara,” Caduceus says sharply. “Shut up.”

Claribel hums thoughtfully and sits back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest, clearly oblivious to the suddenly tense atmosphere.

“Well, just make sure you find someone else who has a C name,” she says, picking up her fork and jabbing it in Caduceus’ direction. “Because dad still won’t drop the Delilah thing and we’ve been together for eight years. It’s like, I’m not going to _not_ marry her because she doesn’t fit into our stupid family naming cult.” She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. "Why couldn't he just be normal and be homophobic or something. I'm kidding," she adds at Caduceus' reproachful look. "You know I'm kidding. I think he's just being Dad, you know how he got on Corrin’s first day of school, the big baby." Her expression softens as she reaches across the table again to squeeze Caduceus’ hand.

“I’m so glad I ran into you,” she says sincerely. She sighs again, looking suddenly worn down. “Work and wedding planning has been _exhausting_. You’ve just this vibe, you know? Has always calmed me down, ever since we were kids.” She glances at Caleb expectantly. “You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Caleb says, smiling when Caduceus finally looks at him with an appraising look. “I do.” He looks quickly back down at his plate when heat needles up the back of his neck, poking absently at his food.

Claribel beams at the two of them. She glances at her watch and swears quietly.

“I’ve got to meet Delilah downtown for another cake tasting in forty-five minutes,” she says, rummaging through her purse for her wallet and flagging down a waiter. “You would not believe how many ways there apparently are to make vanilla cake. And yet they all taste exactly the same.” She sounds faintly exasperated.

The waiter returns with her credit card as she’s pulling on her coat and she signs the receipt with a flourish before holding out her arms to Caduceus.

“Come on,” she says gesturing for him to get up. “Give me a hug, I gotta go.”

Caduceus pushes his chair back to stand and walk around the table to let her pull him into a tight hug.

“Love you, little brother,” she mutters, smiling as she presses a kiss to his cheek.

“You too,” Caduceus says. He kisses her forehead and allows her to ruffle his hair, grimacing. Caleb smiles at the easy display of affection.

“Okay, I’m out, text me when you’ve got another free night, Caddy, Delilah wants us to do dinner. So nice to meet you, Caleb,” she reaches out to shake Caleb’s hand again, holding onto it for an extra beat as she says, “Keep an eye on this big lug, yeah?”

She’s dropped Caleb’s hand and swung her bags onto her shoulder before he can do more than nod wordlessly. She kisses Caduceus’ cheek again before sweeping out the door, waving at them over her shoulder.

There’s a stretch of silence between them, the clatter of cutlery and low chatter of the restaurant suddenly loud in Caleb’s ears. Caduceus isn’t looking at him, eyes still fixed on the door where Claribel disappeared. Caleb clears his throat and pushes to his feet, his chair scraping across the floor shaking Caduceus from his thoughts as he glances back at him.

“Should we head out?” Caleb asks. He slips on his coat and hefts the bag of books.

"Yeah, let's," Caduceus says, still sounding distracted as he tucks his own bag under his arm.

"Wait a moment," Caleb says as Caduceus turns to leave. He beckons him down, stepping into his space as he does. "Come here. Just, yeah..." Caduceus frowns in confusion but obeys, ducking down so he's level with Caleb. Caleb wipes his thumb across his cheek to clean away the faint smear of Claribel's lipstick from his skin. He lets his fingers linger for a moment, ghosting over the line of Caduceus' jaw, before withdrawing them quickly as he realizes what he's doing.

"Sorry," Caleb mutters, bowing his head and wiping his thumb absently on his coat. "You had—um, yeah, let's go," he finishes in a rush, holding his bag against his chest like a shield and hurrying past Caduceus towards the exit. He takes a deep breath of cold air to clear his head one he’s outside, pausing on the sidewalk to wait for Caduceus to join him.

“Sorry about hurricane Claribel,” Caduceus mumbles as they begin meandering back in the direction of campus. “She can be… a lot if you’re not used to her.”

“She seems like she is a lot even if you are used to her,” Caleb says carefully, watching Caduceus’ face as he grimaces. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Caduceus shoves his hand in his pocket with a disquieted expression. “Just wasn’t expecting to see her.” He gives Caleb an almost apologetic look. “I usually get time to prepare myself to see her. Just caught me off guard. I love her to death but she—well, you saw.”

Caleb hums in understanding.

“Sorry she kind of derailed our, um, our—” he frowns as he seems to search for a word and Caleb bites back the word that hangs on his own tongue. Because it’s not that.

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “I liked seeing those pictures.” He chuckles when Caduceus scrunches his nose in a grimace. “And we still got our books, _ja_?”

“Yeah.” Caduceus smiles, turning his book over in his hands, looking pleased. “It might take me awhile but I’m going to read this.”

“Perhaps we can go back again when you finish it?” Caleb suggests. The corners of his lips twitch. “We can get the book you really wanted. What was it called again? _The Salty Sea_? Sounds intriguing.” He grins when Caduceus lets out an embarrassed groan, a pleasing flush darkening his cheeks. His free hand is hanging loosely at his side and Caleb folds his arms across his chest when he has the sudden urge to take it in his own.

“I would like that, though,” Caduceus says. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be that but… I like spending time with you.” He gives Caleb a familiar open, affectionate smile and Caleb has to look away as there’s a heavy, breathless ache in his chest like someone’s filled his lungs with lead.

“Sure,” he forces the word past suddenly clumsy lips. “Sounds good.”

They reach the intersection where they’d met up earlier that morning and there’s an awkward moment as they both stop and hesitate uncertainly.

“I guess I’ll see you Tuesday,” Caduceus says, shifting back and forth on his feet absently.

“I’ll see you then,” Caleb replies. Neither of them moves and Caduceus inhales like he’s about to speak again, instead exhaling and frowning faintly. He seems to struggle with something for a moment before he’s clearing the few feet between them and pulling Caleb into a firm hug. Caleb tenses automatically at the unexpected contact but relaxes almost instantly, closing his eyes and feeling faintly guilty as he loosely wraps his arms around Caduceus’ middle to return the hug. He smells like fresh earth and sandalwood, warm and soothing, and Caleb resists the urge to turn his face into his neck and just breathe the scent in.

He feels a slight pang of disappointment when Caduceus pulls away a few seconds later, rubbing the back of his neck and looking apologetic.

“Sorry,” he says, taking a step back to put space between them.

“No, it’s fine,” Caleb replies, wincing internally at how unsteady his voice sounds.

“I should get going,” Caduceus says.

“Yeah,” Caleb replies, nodding. “Me too.”

“See you later, Caleb.” Caduceus flashes him a final, brief smile before turning and setting off in the direction of campus.

Caleb watches him go for a few seconds before heading in the opposite direction, burying his face in his hands and groaning in frustration even as his head swims giddily.

“So, what, now you are a puddle because of a _hug_? Pathetic,” he mutters, nose wrinkling. He sighs as he tugs at the collar of his coat and catches the lingering scent of sandalwood, his stomach swooping pleasantly. “ _Verdammt._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all thank you SO MUCH for all the comments on the last chapter, they are such a motivation to keep writing. I’m working on chapter 15 now and I’m super excited for the upcoming stuff in the next few chapters, it was a lot of fun to write.
> 
> Caduceus’ playlist is updated for chapter 10 https://open.spotify.com/user/admiller89/playlist/6KtlFqamabc6n40tw3kFcv?si=nZfR3-nhRx-Oolme4iUxoQ 
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to start by thanking Angie for drawing this AMAZING art for chapter 8 which I am still in awe of   
> twitter.com/agonethetic/status/1115122968852672512 PLEASE GO LOOK AT IT IT'S SO GOOD!

The next week slips by in a rush of coursework and studying in preparation for approaching midterms. March begins with a shock of mild weather that leaves the ground sodden with the melting snow, tracts of mud trailing up and down the halls between classrooms. Caleb is grateful for the distraction of midterms to keep him from dwelling on the ever-present nagging voice in the back of his head scolding him any time his thoughts wander to Caduceus or he lays in bed exchanging texts with Molly that border dangerously close to flirtatious, the picture Molly had sent him and what he’d used it for always somewhere in the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to ignore it. He tries not to think too much about the incongruity of it all after working himself up to lay down a line in the sand only for him to be the one so closely toeing it.

But he tells himself that it’s safe, that Caduceus doesn’t feel anything anyway so he’ll get over it soon enough and that Molly seems perfectly content with keeping their interactions friendly and chaste albeit often with that unspoken lingering suggestion of what almost was. Molly hasn’t brought up their conversation from after the party—or the party itself—since it happened, seemingly content on knowing that _Caleb_ knows exactly how he feels. Because even if Molly is keeping his distance and being careful not to cross that tenuous line drawn taut between them, Caleb can still feel that heavy tension any time they’re together, like the sweet, thick scent of ozone that promises rain.

As much as he tells himself that nothing can or will happen, there’s still that tiny part of him that wants for that first crack of thunder. It leaves his traitorous skin prickling with the lack of contact every time he leaves Molly’s dorm, his hands itching for something he can’t quite grasp when they’ve said their good nights and he lays his phone down to stare at the darkened ceiling overhead. He wonders vaguely if Molly still thinks about him when he touches himself. The thought leaves him dizzy and has to roll onto his side and tuck his hands up under his head to keep them from wandering.

Late Friday evening he bids Nott goodbye at the door as she heads to work and he sets off in the opposite direction towards Beau and Jester’s house, savoring the stillness after the decidedly hectic week he’s had. The quiet rustle and creak of the trees lining the sidewalk is the only noise save his footsteps and the occasional distant honk of a car horn or sweep of tires on the pavement as a car drives past him. He climbs the stairs to the door and knocks, rocking absently on his feet and watching a stray cat meander down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road, its fluffy black tail flicking behind it.

The door opens before he can try and catch the cat’s attention and he turns back to see Beau standing in the doorway looking mildly annoyed.

“Dude, I said you could just come inside,” she says, standing back to let him in and shutting the door behind him.

“There was a cat outside,” Caleb says by way of response. “A black one.”

“Oh yeah, it hangs around sometimes,” Beau says with a shrug. “Jester calls it Fluffernutter. Don’t look at me, I didn’t pick it,” she adds when Caleb pulls a face. “Anyway, Jes is ordering food if you want something, she’s in the kitchen.”

Caleb’s stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly and he smiles wryly at Beau’s amused snort before walking past her down the hall to the living room. He stops short in the doorway when his eyes land on the person laying on the couch on their back, legs draped loosely over one of the armrests as they scroll through their phone with a bored expression. They look up at the sound of approaching footsteps, face splitting into a wide, toothy grin at the sight of Caleb.

“Hey!” Molly says, pushing himself into a sitting position and swinging his legs around so he’s upright. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Yes, Beauregard failed to mention that you’d be here as well,” Caleb says, glancing back down the now empty hall and scowling faintly.

“Well, have a seat, darling,” Molly says and pats the spot next to him.

Caleb hesitates momentarily before walking across the room and sitting, sure to leave a foot of space between them and trying not to think about what had happened the last time he was on this couch. Molly turns in his seat so he’s facing him, propping his arm on the back on the couch and resting his chin on his fist, grinning broadly.

“And how are you this evening?” he says, eyes flicking down to Caleb’s outfit and back up again.

“I’m good, um, is Jester here?” Caleb says, glancing across the room at the doorway to the kitchen. “Beauregard said she was—ah.” He falls silent as Jester appears from the kitchen, flashing him a bright smile.

“Caleb! Beau said you were coming!” She’s carrying a huge bowl of popcorn in one hand, her phone in the other as she thumbs over the screen. She moves across the room and all but forces her way into the spot between Caleb and Molly to sit, wriggling her shoulders like she’s trying to get comfortable. “What do you guys want to eat?”

Molly leans back so he can see Caleb from behind Jester’s head, quirking an eyebrow curiously as his eyes flick to Jester and back again. Caleb shrugs in response though he thinks he can guess what Jester is trying to do and he resists the urge to roll his eyes with difficulty.

“Let Caleb pick,” Molly says, waving dismissively. He peers around Jester at Caleb again, leaning forward in his seat this time. “What are you in the mood for, darling?” It’s said innocently enough but Caleb can’t miss the faint hint of suggestion in the way the corners of Molly’s lips twitch when he says it.

“Oh, erm—”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Jester says loudly, cutting him off. She pushes the bowl of popcorn into Caleb’s arms as she stands, frowning petulantly as she raises her phone to her ear to place the order.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Molly mutters as he reaches his hand out to pluck a piece of popcorn from the bowl and toss it into his mouth absently. He pauses in the act of reaching for another piece when Caleb holds one up with a questioning look, miming throwing it. Molly grins and opens his mouth expectantly, head tilted back slightly. Caleb takes aim and throws the popcorn towards his mouth, Molly snorting when it bounces off his nose instead, landing on the floor.

“Terrible,” Molly says with a shake of his head. “Here, watch a master work.” He takes a piece from the bowl and indicates for Caleb to open his mouth, tongue poking out of the corner of his lips and brow furrowing as he aims and tosses it towards him. He lets out a cry of triumph when the piece lands on Caleb’s tongue.

Caleb tries unsuccessfully three more times to hit Molly’s mouth, grimacing when the third piece glances off his horn and Molly doubles over with laughter. Caleb throws a handful of popcorn at him.

“Hey!” They both freeze guiltily as Beau glowers at them from the doorway. “You’re cleaning that shit up,” she says, gesturing at the popcorn scattered across the floor and couch before plopping down in the armchair.

Caleb sets the popcorn aside and they both begin diligently picking up the loose kernels, Molly flashing him a grin that makes his stomach flip pleasantly. A traitorous part of him enjoys the flirting, much more so now that it’s more casual, laid-back, rather than overtly sexual. He’s caught glimpses of this side of Molly before, and thinks it might make it more difficult now than before to not allow himself to be charmed by his impish smile. He prefers this more tame, approachable version of Molly and that worries him.

“Sorry, mom,” Molly says to Beau as he stands to throw the popcorn into the garbage can. He snickers and skips out of the way when she swings a kick at his knees.

“Oh!” Molly says suddenly, looking excited. “I have some news.” He clears his throat and straightens up importantly as Beau and Caleb fix their attention on him. “As of today, you are looking at the Frank-N-Furter for this year’s performance of _Rocky Horror_. Thank you, thank you, no need for applause.” He gives an exaggerated bow and Beau snorts.

“Congratulations, Mollymauk,” Caleb says as Molly sinks down into his seat next to Caleb again. Caleb can’t help but notice that he doesn’t leave enough space between them for someone else to sit this time. “I’ve not seen this show. It is a musical, yes?”

Molly looks almost affronted, giving him an incredulous look. “You’ve _never seen it_?”

“No…?” Caleb says nervously, glancing at Beau, who simply rolls her eyes.

“Well, don’t watch it now,” Molly says earnestly. “But you absolutely _must_ come see it when we start running it in April.” His expression turns more serious. “There is some bad news, though. I have rehearsals on Monday so we’re going to have to cancel our Monday study dates.”

“Oh,” Caleb says, surprised and oddly disappointed at the idea of his time with Molly being cut in half. “Well, if you feel you still need to meet twice a week we can reschedule. I am flexible.”

“Oh, darling, so am I,” Molly says, grinning. His face falls regretfully. “But, I think we’ll have to keep it to once a week. I’ll have rehearsals Friday, too, so I’m not sure I’ll have a chance to meet another day. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out for extracurricular activities.”

Beau makes a quiet gagging noise and Molly ignores her as he continues.

“And you _have_ to come to see a rehearsal,” he says, briefly touching Caleb’s arm. “Not next week, maybe give it a couple weeks. Give us some time to not be terrible first.”

“I’d like that,” Caleb replies, smiling.

Molly grins, wide and pleased and settles back in his seat. “So what sap-fest are we watching anyway?” he asks, absently examining his neatly manicured fingernails. They’re painted the same deep midnight blue as his shirt.

“Some Jennifer Garner movie from like fifteen years ago,” Beau replies with a shrug. “Jester picked it out.”

“You’re not a fan of romantic comedies?” Caleb says, glancing at Molly.

“Eh, I think they’re a little too maudlin for my taste,” Molly says, shrugging. “I understand there’s a certain degree of suspension of disbelief but… I mean it would be nice if life had a soundtrack of cheesy pop songs with grand declarations of love, but I think it’s usually messier than that. And I prefer messy anyway. It’s much more interesting, don’t you think?”

“Mm, you are a pragmatist.”

Molly scrunches up his nose with a thoughtful hum. “I wouldn’t say that. But I don’t pretend to be duped into thinking that life is that simple.” He pauses. “I’m a practical idealist.”

Caleb laughs at this. “You are a very interesting man, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Molly grins, expression softening into something more considering after a few seconds, and Caleb feels that familiar tacit frisson crackle across his skin.

“You guys are fucking weird,” Beau says, making them both start.

Caleb shifts away a few inches, clearing his throat and frowning down at his hands. Thankfully, Jester reenters the room then clutching three beers which she passes out to them, narrowing her eyes at the two of them seated on the couch for half a beat before flopping down on the empty loveseat and stretching out across it. Beau tosses her the remote and she flips through the screens to select _13 Going On 30_.

“Oh god,” Molly mutters, throwing Caleb a cringing look as the movie starts. 

“Shh,” Caleb whispers, holding his finger to his lips. “This is important exposition.”

Molly snorts, pressing his lips together tightly when Jester scowls at him. They sit in silence for a few minutes, passing around the bowl of popcorn, before Molly seems unable to remain silent any longer.

“Ugh, middle schoolers are the _worst_ ,” he says, wrinkling his nose as he twists his beer open. “I count it as a blessing I don’t have to remember that phase of my life.”

“Speaking from experience, you’re probably right,” Caleb says offhandedly.

“Oh my god, what was little Caleb like?” Molly turns in his seat to give him an expectant look, smirking faintly.

“I was a scrawny foreign exchange student, so you can probably guess.” He makes a face and takes a sip from his beer.

“I _need_ to see pictures of this,” Molly snickers.

“Not on your life,” Caleb responds seriously.

“I bet you were _adorable_ ,” Molly says, reaching out to briefly brush his fingers against Caleb’s thigh in a would-be reassuring gesture if it didn’t send a pleasant shiver across his skin.

“Those blue eyes and cute freckles,” Molly continues, now touching one thumb to Caleb’s cheek where the freckles are scattered across his skin. “I bet all those brats had secret crushes on you.”

“They had a strange way of showing it,” Caleb mutters, thinking gloomily back to years of being mocked for his accent, his hand-me-down clothes, his crippling social anxiety.

Molly makes a sympathetic noise and squeezes his forearm gently. “Well fuck them then,” he says curtly.

Caleb huffs out a quiet laugh. “Fuck them,” he echoes, smiling when Molly grins in approval.

They fall silent again, Beau and Molly occasionally making snide comments despite Jester’s annoyed looks. When the main character says “ _I_ _saw his thingy_!”, Molly leans against Caleb’s shoulder and mutters, “Wanna see my thingy?” His tone is teasing rather than suggestive, a hint of laughter behind his voice, and Caleb can’t help but smile. He shakes his head and pokes Molly in the ribs with his elbow, clucking his tongue. Molly laughs under his breath, bumping his arm against Caleb’s before settling back into his own space again.

Caleb takes another pull from his beer, surprised to find it’s already close to empty, and glances at Molly’s profile in his peripheral, the sharp lines of his face and curve of his horns lit up by the glow of the television, lips upturned in the faintest smirk. His eyes flick in Caleb’s direction and his grin widens as he winks at him before his gaze returns to the screen. Caleb lets his eyes linger for another moment before he looks back at the movie, though he finds his attention drawn to Molly like a magnet so much he barely takes in what’s happening.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Molly says when they’re an hour or so into the movie, the pizza delivered twenty minutes before and the half empty boxes spread across the coffee table along with the empty popcorn bowl and beer bottles.

Caleb has long since finished his first beer and is nursing his second, refusing to let himself get beyond pleasantly tipsy. He’s found he can’t trust himself around Molly when alcohol is involved and he’s not about to tempt that lack of self-control into rearing its head again. Not when they’re sitting so close in the near dark where it would be so easy to reach out and let his hands wander like part of him so badly wants to let them.

“In what world is waking up to find that you’re hot, rich, and have a smokin' boyfriend _not_ the dream? I woke up with one of those and I was perfectly happy.” He gives Jester, Beau and Caleb exasperated looks.

“I didn’t know you were rich,” Caleb says before he can stop himself.

Beau lets out a bark of laughter and Jester merely purses her lips. She’s been surprisingly quiet the entire evening and Caleb can help but be mildly worried over what she’s stewing over. Molly stares at him in shocked disbelief for a full five seconds before his face splits into a grin.

“ _Ouch_ ,” he says, laying a hand on his chest over his heart with an offended look like Caleb has gravely wounded him. “Mean. You’re so mean, Caleb.”

Caleb shrugs, biting back a smile as he takes a drink of his beer. He pauses with the bottle at his lips when Molly shifts closer to him and slides his arm around the back of the couch behind him, not resting on his shoulders but close enough that Caleb can’t ignore it.

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” he murmurs, breath tickling Caleb’s ear.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try,” Caleb replies, keeping his eyes focused on the screen.

He hears Molly make a quiet, amused sound next to him. He expects him to move back away from him again but finds he doesn’t mind when he stays, arm slung across the back of the couch and warm weight only a few inches from Caleb’s side. Every now and then he whispers some comment about the movie into Caleb’s ear, grinning proudly when Caleb laughs. The low, teasing chuckle reminds Caleb a little too much of the image of Molly his brain had conjured, and he can feel that steady simmer of heat settle in his core at the thought.

“So this dude hasn’t seen this chick in years,” Beau says as Molly removes his arm from around Caleb’s shoulders so he can stand and get himself another beer. “She’s turned into a huge bitch, he’s about to get married to someone else, but she pulls this naive doe-eyed shit for a week and suddenly he’s into her again?” She pulls a disdainful look and takes a large swallow of her beer. “This is why I’m a lesbian, men are pigs.”

“They’re in  _love_ , Beau,” Jester says with a scowl, clutching a pillow to her chest.

“Seems like a shit way to start a relationship,” Beau grumbles.

“And what about his fiancee?” Molly says as he returns from the kitchen. “Does anyone ever consider what happens to the people who get left behind in these things? She’s not even a bitch or anything.”

“Exactly!” Beau says, throwing up her hands in exasperation and nearly sloshing her beer everywhere. “Poor chick is about to dumped for someone he hasn’t spoken to in half a decade.”

Molly chuckles as he sinks back down into his seat next to Caleb, letting his hand rest on the couch between them instead of behind Caleb.

Caleb feels the faintest sense of disappointment, though it’s quickly replaced by a sudden alertness as he feels the brush of Molly’s fingertips against his outer thigh along the seam of his jeans. He sits up a little straighter and glances at Molly out of the corner of his eye. He’s not looking at him, expression schooled into a bored look and eyes focused on the television, but the slow, barely there skim of his touch is too deliberate to be accidental.

Caleb swallows thickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the television as the touch disappears and Molly shifts back into the cushions with a soft exhale. He doesn’t touch Caleb again for the rest of the movie but Caleb still feels like his skin is alight with electricity the entire time, his pulse quickening every time Molly moves next to him to take a sip of his beer or cross his legs.

Jester has nodded off by the time the credits start playing across the screen, Beau nudging her awake gently and murmuring something Caleb doesn’t hear that Jester responds to with a sleepy nod and a yawn. Beau tucks her hair behind her ear before helping her to her feet.

“Good night, Caleb,” Jester mumbles with a drowsy wave as she shuffles past them towards the hall, leaning against Beau’s shoulder. “Good night, Molly.”

“Good night, Jester,” Caleb replies as Molly stands and stretches his arms over his head with a groan.

Caleb rubs at his eyes absently and checks his phone for the time, grimacing at the idea of walking home this late alone.

“I’ll be right back,” Beau calls over her shoulder from the doorway. “Gonna take Jes to her room.”

Molly yawns hugely and sits back on the couch, curling up against the armrest and blinking sleepily as he scrolls through his phone. Caleb gathers up the scattered trash for something to do, carrying it out to the kitchen and swearing quietly when he glances out the window over the sink and realizes it’s raining, streaking dark against the glass.

Beau returns as he’s walking back into the living room, jerking her thumb over her shoulder down the hall.

“It’s raining,” she says. “You guys can sleep here if you want,” she adds when Molly groans in annoyance. “I can pull the couch out, we’ve got lots of extra blankets and shit.”

Molly glances at Caleb in silent question.

“Oh, um—”

“I can walk home,” Molly says quickly. “Or sleep on the floor or the chair if you’re not—.”

“No,” Caleb says with a shake of his head. “No, it’s… fine. Thank you, Beauregard. If you are sure it’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Beau responds with a shrug. “No big deal.”

“I’ll be right back,” Caleb mutters, “Bathroom.” He can feel Molly watching him leave but doesn’t look at him, moving down the hall to the bathroom and locking the door behind him when he enters. He splashes cold water on his face and stares at himself in the mirror, blanching at the pinkness of his cheeks.

“You are just going to sleep,” he mutters, wiping the hand towel over his face to dry it. “Nothing is going to happen.”

He texts Nott to let her know that he won’t be home and asking her to feed Frumpkin for him. He empties his bladder, washing his hands and clicking off the light as he leaves, yawning into the back of hand as he shuffles back down the hall towards the living room. He pauses when he hears voices filtering out of the room, taking a silent step back at the sound of his own name.

“—Caleb doesn’t see that,” Beau is grumbling crossly.

“I told you,” Molly sighs a little wearily. “I’m just going to, I don’t know, see what happens, I guess. _You’re_ the one who said I need to stop coming on so strong. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

There’s a quiet creak and shift of metal, presumably as Beau unfolds the sofa bed.

“I just spent the last two hours watching you two flirt so hard I was about to leave the room if Jester wasn’t here,” Beau scoffs, sounding half-impressed, half-disgusted. “It was gross, Molly.”

Caleb flushes and shrinks back towards the wall, heart beating loudly against his rib cage.

Molly sighs and Caleb hears a soft _whump_ and squeak of bedsprings.

“You really like him, huh?” Beau says, kinder. “Like… _like_ him.”

Caleb holds his breath.

“Yeah,” Molly says, sounding forlorn. “I do. But you know I don’t know what I’m doing, Beau, I’m shit at this stuff. What if I fuck it up? He said he doesn't want anything else and it... it fucking hurts, you know? I think he thinks I just want to fool around still and, like, I mean, I _do_ but it's not just that...”

There’s a soft _thump_ and Molly makes an affronted sound.

“What the hell!?” he cries as there’s another muffled _thump_.

“Get—” _thump_ “—your shit—” _thump_ “—together,” Beau grunts.

There’s a final _thump_ and Molly lets out a pained whimper. “That qualifies as a hate crime,” he whines.

“Just _talk to him_ ,” Beau groans in frustration. “Jesus, you two are exhausting.” She sighs. “I’m going to bed. And no fucking my couch,” she adds sternly.

“I make no promises,” Molly says flatly.

Caleb’s eyes widen at the sound of approaching footsteps and he slips back down the hall and into the bathroom, pretending to be just exiting when he hears Beau walking past.

“Oh, hey,” Beau says, pausing. “I’m going to bed. I left blankets and stuff out there for you guys.”

“Thank you,” Caleb mutters, ducking his head and praying she can’t see how red his face is in the dim light.

She gives him a curious look but doesn’t say anything beyond a brief good night, patting him on the arm before trudging up the stairs to go to bed. Caleb swallows thickly, schooling his face into a blank expression as he walks back into the living room.

The air rushes out of his lungs at the sight of Molly’s bare back as he shrugs out of his shirt and drapes it over the back of the couch carefully, the familiar tattoos shifting as he unbuckles his belt and slides it free to lay on top of his shirt. Caleb feels a surge of guilt but finds he can’t look away as Molly slips his pants off and tosses them with the rest of his clothes, leaving him in nothing but a pair of dark, tight boxer briefs. He begins methodically pulling off the many baubles and rings from his horns, making a quiet sound of frustration when one of the thin chains gets tangled.

“Do you need help?”

Molly glances back over his shoulder at him, looking surprised to see him standing there but nodding. “Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved. “This one always gets stuck. I really need to replace it.”

Caleb gestures for him to sit and he complies, perching on the edge of the mattress and tilting his head down so Caleb can work at untangling the delicate silver chain.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Molly says quietly as Caleb passes him the chain and begins unclipping the next decorative charm. “And I can get dressed again if it—”

“It’s fine,” Caleb says softly, trying not to think about the conversation he’d just overheard. “Isn’t it cumbersome doing this every day?” he says as he works to undo a complicated series of clasps on a silver band that wraps fully around one of Molly’s horns, embedded with little red gemstones.

“Mm, but it’s so pretty,” Molly replies, the grin in his voice clear.

Caleb chuckles, handing him the piece as it finally comes undone. “Finished.”

Molly tilts his head back to look at him, smiling gently. “Thanks.”

Caleb nods silently. He can hear the rain pattering quietly against the windows, steady and soothing. Molly’s eyes are fixed on him, bright, shining scarlet, searching Caleb’s face carefully, expression edging on anxious, questioning.

Caleb takes a half step back and the heavy tension splits. “Um, I’m just going to…” he tugs at his sweater, frowning and avoiding Molly’s gaze as he turns to face away from him.

“Oh, right.” Molly’s voice is small, unusually quiet, and Caleb hears the mattress creak as he turns the other way. Caleb tugs off his sweater and jeans, thankful he’d worn an undershirt that day, and crawls under one of the blankets Beau had left them, fixing his eyes on the wall as he listens to Molly shift next to him as he mirrors his movement.

Ten minutes later, Caleb is no closer to sleep, body taut with tension, hyper aware of every time movement Molly makes. He’s on his side of the bed at the very edge of the mattress, the quiet sound of Molly breathing unnaturally loud in his ears. He starts when Molly speaks, voice quiet and tentative.

“Caleb?”

“Hmm?”

The mattress creaks and dips beside him and he hesitates for a moment before rolling over so he’s facing Molly, careful to leave as much space between them as possible as he does. He can just barely make out Molly’s outline in the darkness, the shape of his horns and angle of his jaw.

“Do you believe any of that stuff?” he murmurs. “In the movie I mean.”

“How so?”

He hears Molly sigh, blankets rustling as he adjusts his position slightly. Caleb feels something he thinks is Molly’s tail brush against his ankle but it’s gone half a second later.

“I don’t know,” Molly says a little distantly. “Like… about soulmates or love. Any of it, I guess.”

“You mean… do I think love exists?” He sees the blanket lift as Molly shrugs. “Well, I have seen my parents happy together for over twenty years so, yes, I think it exists. I think the idea of soulmates is a little silly, the idea that you could only ever love one person. And movies like that make it all seem not as messy like you said but…”

Molly is silent for a moment.

“Have you ever been in love?” he says eventually.

Caleb considers the question, heart thumping quick and nervous in his chest at where the conversation seems to be headed.

“I thought I had been. In high school. There was a girl. But, when I look back, I think it was more codependency than love.”

“What was she like?”

“Hm, very strong-willed,” he replies with a grimace, smiling when Molly laughs softly.

He pauses and asks the question even though he knows he shouldn’t. “Have you ever been in love, Mollymauk?”

He hears Molly exhale a rush of air.

“I don’t know,” he whispers so quietly Caleb has to strain his ears to hear him. “Maybe.”

Something heavy and unspoken hangs in the space between them, two feet suddenly feeling infinite, and Caleb thinks how easy it could be to reach out and clear it. But then he thinks of Caduceus, of Beau and Jester upstairs, of the rules he set himself to keep his distance, and he stops with his hand half outstretched under the blanket.

“We should get some sleep,” he mutters, pulling his hand back and curling it against his side.

“Yeah,” Molly says. Caleb winces at how timid he sounds. “Okay. Good night, Caleb.”

“Good night, Mollymauk.”

Molly rolls over to face away from him again and Caleb stares at his bare back for a few seconds before doing the same. He closes his eyes, focusing on the lulling drum of the rain and sound of Molly’s breathing, slowly evening out into deep, steady breaths when he falls asleep first, and gradually drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your comments! I don't want to skew the numbers by replying to all of them but I read every single one many times and get so excited when I see a new one in my inbox. 
> 
> Currently writing chapter 17 which is probably going to be the longest chapter of this thing (spring break, baby) but if I can keep up the pace I'm at and finish this thing soon I might up to twice weekly chapters. Currently on track to post the endings at the start of July.
> 
> Molly's playlist updated for this chapter: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dtLgEt6a81XScs8C2fc5M
> 
> Have a fabulous week! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More art shout outs to start the chapter! Y'all are too good to me. As a note, if you draw anything for this PLEASE tell me so I can shower you with love:
> 
> Reilly drew this wonderful piece for the shotgunning bit from Chapter 8 https://twitter.com/art_bites/status/1117939790786236418 and Angie has again outdone herself with makeover Caduceus from chapter 10 https://twitter.com/agonethetic/status/1117666752291323905

Caleb is awakened by a strange wet, slurping noise. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, groaning and rubbing sleep from them before cracking them open against the pale morning light. He squints as his vision comes into focus, the same odd noise filtering through his head. There’s a quiet _crunch_ and he peers around blearily, starting when his eyes land on Beau where she’s standing at the foot of the bed, watching him with a bored expression, clutching a bowl of cereal in one hand and chewing slowly.

“‘Sup?” she says, shoving another spoonful into her mouth with a slurp. She smirks, still chewing, and her eyes flick downward before lifting back to Caleb’s face.

Caleb stifles a yawn and blinks drowsily, still gaining his bearings at waking up in a bed that is not his own.

“Beauregard,” he mutters, dragging one hand over his jaw absently. “What—” he stills in the process of sitting up when he feels something warm and weighted slip down his chest, looking down to see Molly’s arm draped limp across his waist. He’s still fast asleep on his stomach next to Caleb, cheek pressed against the pillow and his other arm curled under his head, the blanket crumpled around his hips so his bare back is exposed, rising and falling slowly with each breath.

Molly sighs softly at Caleb’s shift in position, fingers loosely fisting in the fabric of his shirt and brow furrowing in his sleep. He hears Beau snicker as an embarrassed flush creeps up his face.

“N-no, Beauregard, it’s not—” He carefully untangles Molly’s fingers from his shirt, wincing when he makes a small sound of protest in his sleep and slides his splayed fingers up Caleb’s chest. Caleb catches his wrist and gently lays his hand on the bed next to him instead.

Molly’s eyes blink open slowly, drifting back shut for a few seconds before he heaves a sigh and looks up at Caleb through barely cracked eyelids. He smiles sleepily, one corner of his lips lifting, and Caleb’s stomach does a sluggish somersault, their conversation from the night before slowly coming back to him.

“Morning,” Molly murmurs, voice rough and low with sleep. He turns on his side to more fully face Caleb, a few tousled curls falling over his forehead. Caleb clasps his hands together as he feels the sudden urge to reach out and brush them back off his face.

“Good morning,” Caleb replies, watching as Molly pushes himself into a sitting position and lifts his arms above his head in a stretch, the sinuous lines of lean muscle shifting under his skin. He lets out a little groan of satisfaction, squeezing his eyes shut and wrinkling his nose before letting his arms fall back at his sides, shoulders slumped and lips smacking absently.

“Oh, hey, Beau,” he mumbles groggily as he spots Beau standing at the edge of the bed, still watching the two of them closely.

“Yo,” Beau says, tipping her bowl towards him.

Molly turns to Caleb with another crooked, drowsy grin. His hair is rumpled with sleep, sticking up on end in spots in a way that Caleb refuses to admit is endearing. He rubs his eyes and scratches absently at the side of his neck as he looks around, still seeming disoriented.

“Mm,” he flops back onto his pillow again with a wide yawn. “Beau, make us breakfast, we’re your guests.”

“Like hell I’m making you shit,” Beau grunts.

“Rude,” Molly bemoans, throwing a pillow weakly in her direction. It lands three feet short on the bed around his feet. Beau rolls her eyes and takes another spoonful of cereal. “Caleb,” he whines as he rolls onto his side and curls into a ball, tugging the blanket back over himself. “Tell Beau to stop being mean to me.”

Beau snorts and lobs the pillow back at him where it lands with a soft _whump_ on his head.

“Get up, I’ll make you coffee, but that’s all you’re getting,” she says with another roll of her eyes as she heads towards the kitchen.

Molly sits up with a pleased, sleepy grin, and crawls out of bed. He arches his back in another stretch before bending down to touch his toes. Caleb’s eyes wander up his long legs, the curve of his ass under his briefs, the little dimples at the base of his spine, the long swishing tail that ends in a spaded tip. His hands are itching to drag over the warm skin and his scolds himself as the thought pops into his head.

Molly straightens up, glancing back at Caleb, who averts his gaze quickly, flushing pink at being caught staring.

“Come on,” Molly says, seeming to preen at the attention. “I’m sure we can convince Beau to feed us something.” He tugs his shirt on, leaving the front unbuttoned and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows, and ambles out into the kitchen after Beau. Caleb combs his fingers through his untidy hair a few times before following him.

Beau is in the process of brewing a pot a coffee, leaning against the counter and scrolling through her phone with a disinterested look. She snorts and holds her phone out to show Molly something, Molly squinting at it as he passes and rolling his eyes as he sinks into one of the seats at the table on the opposite side of the room.

Caleb joins him, sitting across the table from him and rubbing the lingering sleep from his eyes. Beau rummages through the cupboards for mugs, pouring out three cups of coffee and passing one to each of them, setting the third at the empty seat next to Caleb. She digs through the cupboards again for two bowls and spoons, fishing milk from the fridge and balancing it all along with a box of cereal to set on the table between them.

“That’s all you’re getting,” she says, waving her hand dismissively as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Caleb leans towards her as Molly begins pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Beauregard,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “How long were you standing there this morning?”

Beau chortles, taking another sip of coffee before saying in a low, sing-song voice, “Long enough to get pictures.”

“Delete them,” Caleb hisses, flushing red.

“But they’re so _adorable_ ,” Beau says, voice taking on an affected, saccharine tone. She flips her thumb over the screen of her phone and shows it discreetly to Caleb with a smirk. In the picture, Molly is in the same position he’d been in when Caleb had woken up, his arm flung over Caleb’s chest and his palm over his heart. But Caleb is more concerned about the fact that his own hand is resting on top of Molly’s, their fingers loosely laced together and his face turned towards Molly on the pillow. His other arm is draped across his stomach, his hand lightly gripping Molly’s forearm.

He makes a grab for Beau’s phone but she snatches it away, clucking her tongue in admonishment as she slips her phone into her bra under her tank top.

“Beauregard, please,” Caleb whispers desperately, sure his face is crimson with how hot it feels.

“This is top-tier blackmail material, I am _not_ giving it up,” she says, patting the spot where her phone is tucked away. “Either that, or it’ll make a lovely addition to your wedding slideshow some day.”

Caleb glowers at her, snatching up the box of cereal as Molly sets it down to pour himself a bowl and silently seething as she snickers next to him.

“Hey,” Molly says, nodding at Beau as he digs his spoon into his cereal. “Come shopping with me today. I need to replace that charm that keeps getting caught. I’ll make Yasha come,” he adds when Beau grimaces.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” she grumbles. “But you’re paying for the ride this time.”

“Do I look made of money?” Molly says in exasperation.

“You’ve got money to buy stupid shit for your horns, you can pay for a Lyft.”

“Just because some of us care about our appearance,” Molly sniffs, eyeing Beau’s disheveled hair and rumpled clothes, “These are necessary adornments.”

“Necessary my ass,” Beau snorts, flicking a piece of cereal at his head and snickering when it bounces of his nose and he yelps in pain.

“Good morning, everyone!”

They all look up blearily—Molly in the process of lunging across the table for Beau and Beau tipping her chair back to avoid him—as Jester bounces into the room, smiling cheerily at them as she pours herself a cup of coffee and happily begins loading it with sugar.

“You see what I have to deal with every day,” Beau mutters under her breath in disgust, Molly settling back into his seat.

Jester hums brightly as she plops into the seat next to Molly, looking fresh-faced and much more put together than the three of them with their tousled hair and groggy expressions.

“How did everyone sleep?” she says, cupping her mug in her hands and peering around at them with a smile.

“Well, these two slept _gr_ —ow, _fuck_.” Beau glares at Caleb as he kicks her hard under the table with a threatening look.

Jester hums, eyes narrowing slightly as she glances between Caleb and Molly. She straightens her posture primly.

“So, Caleb,” she says, turning in her seat to look at him, an almost dangerously sweet smile on her face. “Did you and Caduceus have fun last week? He said you went book shopping and had lunch with his sister.”

Molly stills with his spoon halfway to his mouth, posture suddenly tense. Caleb can’t practically feel him holding his breath, though his eyes are still fixed on the table, jaw set. He feels Beau’s eyes boring into him.

Caleb flashes Jester a warning look but she simply smiles wider, batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Yes,” he responds curtly. He grimaces internally as he remembers that Molly had been texting him that day while he was with Caduceus. “He was looking for some books and we happened to run into his sister. That’s all that happened, Jester,” he finishes pointedly.

Jester props her chin on her hands, still smiling blithely.

“Well, that sounds like such a _fun date_ ,” she says.

There’s a loud scrape of metal on tile as Molly pushes his chair back and stands, looking distressed.

“I should get going,” he mutters, not looking at Caleb as he picks up his bowl and goes to deposit it in the sink before heading to the living room.

“Molly, hang on,” Caleb says, flashing Jester a scowl as he hurries to stand and follow after Molly. He’s tugging his pants up when Caleb reaches him, brow furrowed and bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Molly…”

Molly pauses in the act of zipping his pants, hesitating for a split second before he clears the space between them in three strides, taking Caleb’s face in his hands. Caleb’s heart leaps in his chest in anticipation. But Molly doesn’t kiss him, simply cradles his face in both hands as his eyes flit over Caleb’s expression, lingering on his lips before fixing on his eyes again, his lips pressed together and eyes full of such desperation it makes Caleb’s breath lodge in his throat. It looks like it’s taking him everything not to close the last few inches between their lips, and Caleb almost wishes he would. His thumbs brush over the arches of Caleb’s cheekbones and he closes his eyes for a brief moment before dropping his hands back at his sides and taking a heavy step back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, shaking his head as he gathers up the rest of his clothes and his jewelry. “I gotta go.”

“Molly—”

“I’ll see you Wednesday, yeah?” Molly gives him a pained smile before tugging on his shoes and heading down the hall. Caleb hears the front door open and close sharply and he drags his hand down his face, swearing under his breath.

He can hear Jester and Beau arguing quietly in the kitchen and he strides back into the room, the two of them falling silent immediately though they’re still staring daggers at each other across the table. Caleb glowers at them both before scoffing irritably and going back into the living room to gather up his things and get dressed. He’s got his hand on the front door when Jester appears at his side, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” she says quietly, shuffling her feet. “I know you don’t want us to get involved. I just know that you and Caduceus would be good together,” she adds insistently.

Caleb sighs. “Jester, I know what you think,” he begins, “but Caduceus does not have any feelings for me. He told me as much himself. Maybe not in so many words but… it still stands. There is nothing between us.” It hurts more than he expected it would saying it out loud.

She opens her mouth like she wants to argue before pursing her lips together tightly and sighing.

“Okay, Caleb,” she mutters. She wrings her hands together fretfully for a moment before continuing, “Next week is my birthday. A bunch of us are going to my mom’s show Saturday, if you want to come.”

“I will think about it,” Caleb says.

She smiles and pulls him into a tight hug, kissing him on the cheek as she releases him.

“I’ll send you all the details,” she says, brightening a little. “Just make sure you have something nice to wear, it’s _very_ fancy.”

“Um, right,” Caleb responds, not sure how to take the implication that the clothes he normally wears are _not_ nice. He glances down at his threadbare sweater and realizes she’s probably not wrong.

“See you later, Caleb,” she says, opening the door for him and waving as he steps out into the dreary grey morning air. He glances up and down the street as the door snaps shut behind him, but there is no flap of a long maroon coat or swish of a purple tail anywhere to be seen. He sighs and folds his arms across his chest against the chill as he begins trudging back towards his apartment.

* * *

Molly is subdued during their tutoring session that Wednesday, unusually quiet and not quite meeting Caleb’s eye most of the night. It makes Caleb’s stomach knot with guilt, but he’s at a loss for what to say to him. He can insist that it wasn’t a date, but it feels dishonest knowing that some piece of him _wishes_ it had been. And regardless of that, he’s still trying to stick to his own rules—even though his excuses are starting to sound flimsy even to his own ears—so he doesn’t know what the point of trying to reassure Molly would be apart from potentially giving him false hope.

All Caleb can do the entire evening is keep replaying Beau and Molly’s conversation in his head. Though he thinks he should have expected it, the revelation that Molly’s feelings for him are beyond just sexual makes it even more difficult for him to try and ignore them. He cares for Molly. Deeply. The pained look in his eyes when he’d left Beau and Jester’s apartment had left him churning with guilt for days and frequently opening their ongoing text thread—silent since Saturday—and fretting over what to say to him but never actually saying anything. It feels feeble to him to try and act like nothing had happened and simply pick their conversation back up where they’d left off.

And then there’s the matter of Caduceus. Caleb still feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach at the thought of him, though it almost immediately condenses into a heavy, painful weight that tugs insistently at his chest as he reminds himself that, no, Caduceus does not see him that way. And he thinks that if, after everything, there’s nothing there, there likely never will be. But Caduceus still wears that fond, private smile for him that makes his brain buzz with possibility, still reminds him every day to take care of himself, still worries after him.

When his phone vibrates on the bed next to him Thursday night, he feels a jolt of excitement followed immediately by sinking disappointment when he sees the message is from Jester.

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _hi, Caleb! I’m doing a final headcount for my momma for Saturday and wanted to see if you are coming?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _how fancy do I have to dress? Because I am broke and do not have many fancy clothes._

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _hmm, do you have a nice pair of slacks and a sport coat or something like that?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _...I own...pants_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I think I have a blazer somewhere_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Caleeeeeb_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _send me a picture of the outfit, I’ll tell you if it’s fancy enough_

Caleb sighs and drags himself out of bed, digging through his closet to find the navy blazer he’d gotten the year prior for his admissions interview. It’s still in near mint condition, only worn once as it had made him feel stiff and uncomfortable. He pulls it out along with a pair of grey trousers and a pale blue sweater, tossing it all on the bed and sending Jester a picture along with a question mark.

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _!!! Perfect!_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _you will look so handsome, Caleb ;3c_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _that’s good, I am secretly trying to seduce your mother and take all her money_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _(๑•̀д•́๑)_

 **_Jester Lavorre_ ** _: we’re meeting at the coffee shop at 7, by the way!_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _alright, I will see you then_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _(≧∇≦)/_

Caleb hangs his clothes in the closet and settles back down on the bed, scratching Frumpkin behind the ears absently as he pulls open his text thread with Molly for what is probably the dozenth time that day.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I miss talking to you_

He deletes the message before he can send it, chewing on his bottom lip in consideration.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _are you angry at me?_

Delete.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’m sorry_

Delete.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I do not know what I’m doing either._

Delete.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I want to kiss you and to be with you but I am afraid because I’m not good at getting close to people and I am definitely not good at this sort of thing. It feels complicated and complicated scares me. And I am worried because I feel this way about two people and I do not know what I’m supposed to do about that. I still feel guilty because I am afraid I hurt you and I did not realize until it happened that the idea of hurting you hurts ME and I am still not sure how to process that._

Delete. Delete. _Delete._

He throws his phone down on the bed next to him and drags one hand through his hair in frustration. There’s a knock at his door and he looks up to see Nott pushing it open, holding a bowl of something that’s gently wafting steam.

“I know you haven’t eaten yet,” she says, crawling into the bed next to him and pressing the bowl of what looks to be a cobbled together stir fry into his hands. “Everything okay? You look…” she trails off, giving him a scrutinizing look.

“Mm, yeah,” he replies, giving her a grateful squeeze around the shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “Just a long week is all. Midterms are soon so it’s been stressful.”

Her wide, yellow eyes give him a piercing look that makes him think she doesn’t quite believe him but she doesn’t press him further, merely leaning against his side and pulling Frumpkin into her lap to pet him as Caleb takes bites between typing away on his laptop. She’s dozing when Caleb finishes eating, and he carefully picks her up to carry her to her room, smiling as she curls into a ball on her side as soon as he sets her down.

“Caleb?”

Caleb pauses at the door and looks back at her. Her eyes are pale and luminous in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Her voice is soft, almost timid, and a surge of guilt hits Caleb. He really can’t stop fucking things up, can he?

“I know,” he says, smiling.

“Okay,” she says. She sighs. “Good night, Caleb.”

“Good night, Nott.”

He shuts the door softly, glancing down at Frumpkin as he winds his way around his ankles and meows hungrily.

“You have already had your supper,” Caleb admonishes.

Frumpkin stares up at him reproachfully before trotting off down the hall, tail in the air, to curl up in his cat bed, back turned to him.

“Yeah, why not,” Caleb grumbles. “Everyone else is upset at me, you might as well be, too.”

He still hasn’t spoken to Molly since Wednesday when he heads to the coffee shop to meet Jester Saturday evening. The thought eats away at him as he buys himself a cup of tea while he waits for her and whoever else is joining them to show up, tugging self-consciously at the sleeve of his jacket. He settles at one of the tables near the back of the shop, turning his phone over in his hand and forcing himself not to once again get distracted trying to think of something to say to Molly.

He sees a familiar shock of pink hair in the corner of his eye and quickly turns to see Caduceus standing just inside the door to the shop, eyes sweeping the room and face lighting up when he spots Caleb. He waves and begins making his way towards him. Caleb’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him, dressed in a fitted grey vest that hugs the shape of his slim waist over a pale pink shirt rolled up to his elbows, his coat draped over his arm.

 _Of course_.

“Hey,” he says brightly as he approaches, dropping into the seat across from Caleb. “Jester said you might be coming.”

“Did she?” Caleb says weakly. He takes a bracing gulp of tea. It burns down his throat. “And is that another Jester outfit?”

Caduceus glances down, nose wrinkling in distaste as he tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah, Jester said I needed to have something nice to wear,” he says. “To be honest, it’s not really my style but…” He trails off with a shrug and eyes Caleb’s outfit. “Your sweater matches your eyes.” He smiles and Caleb feels so wholly enamored with him, he thinks he wouldn’t be surprised if little hearts started floating around his head. He thinks there’s no point in trying to tell himself otherwise now, he is so far gone over him it’s giving him a stomachache.

He sees Jester enter the shop over Caduceus’ shoulder, Molly’s roommate—Fjord?—at her side. She waves excitedly when she spots the two of them, grabbing Fjord’s arm to drag him along towards them.

“You both look so handsome,” she says, clapping her hands together. She grasps Caduceus’ shoulders and looks to Caleb with a would-be innocent smile. “Doesn’t Caduceus look nice, Caleb?”

Caleb suppresses a sigh.

“Yes, we all look _wunderbar_ ,” he mutters, avoiding Caduceus’ eyes and looking towards the door to the cafe instead. “Where is everyone else?”

“Oh, this is everyone!” Jester says brightly. “Should we get going?”

Caleb stares at her as she tugs Caduceus to his feet and begins chatting cheerfully to him as they walk towards the exit. Fjord throws Caleb a calculating look before trailing after them.

“ _Verdammt_ , Jester,” Caleb grumbles before pushing himself to his feet and following them outside, tossing his empty cup into the trash as he goes.

He follows a few paces behind Fjord, hands shoved in his pockets as he glares at the back of Jester’s head, silently fuming. He has half a mind to turn around and go home to teach her a lesson to stop meddling but before he can come to a decision, Fjord is slowing so he can get in step with him.

“Hey,” he grunts, looking mildly uncomfortable.

“Hello,” Caleb responds gruffly, still scowling.

“I’ve got a weird question,” Fjord says, squinting a little like he’s thinking hard.

“Okay,” Caleb says warily, half afraid Fjord is going to bring up Molly, which is another can of worms he’s not prepared to deal with tonight.

“So,” Fjord begins slowly, brow furrowed, “so you’re into dudes, right?”

Caleb nearly trips, stumbling a little and staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Fjord,” he says carefully, “I’m flattered, but I don’t think—”

“Oh! No, _no_ ,” Fjord says, waving his hands and shaking his head. “I mean, okay, for a dude, you’re—I mean, no, what I mean is—” he frowns and huffs out a breath, “—is there something wrong with Applebee’s?”

Caleb gapes at him.

“ _What_?”

“You know what, never mind,” Fjord mutters, quickening his pace to catch up to Jester and Caduceus.

Caleb is left gawking at the back of his head, mystified, trying wildly to figure out how to interpret what just happened.

When Caduceus begins talking to Fjord about something, the two of them falling half a step behind Jester, Caleb speeds up to her side.

“Jester,” he grits through clenched teeth, “what did I say?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Caleb,” she says with a sniff, though she’s not meeting his eye.

“Is this meant to be a _date_?” Caleb all but growls.

“Oh, I don’t know, Caleb,” Jester says, giving him a wide, innocent smile. “Do _you_ think it’s a date? Because I never said it was a date, but if that’s what _you_ think then maybe it is.”

“What happened to ‘a bunch of us are going’?” Caleb mutters. “This is not ‘a bunch’.”

“Well, you know, Beau had lacrosse and Nott had to work, it’s not _my_ fault they couldn’t come.” She pouts a little sourly and Caleb narrows his eyes at her.

“I am not stupid, Jester,” he says. “I know what you are doing.”

“If you know what I’m doing then why are you still here?” she says in a sing-song voice, expression smug when Caleb doesn’t respond. She flounces off ahead of him and Caleb glowers at the back of her head.

“Everything okay?” Caduceus says as he sidles up next to him.

“ _Ja, alles ist gut_ , er, fine,” Caleb mutters, schooling his expression into something calmer.

“I’ve never seen Jester’s mom perform before,” Caduceus says absently, “she’s pretty popular though, huh?”

“Mm, seems to be the case,” Caleb replies. He’d looked up the cost of a table at  _The Lavish Chateau_ out of morbid curiosity after he’d confirmed with Jester and had needed to check it twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining it when he’d read the outlandish number.

“There it is!” Jester calls excitedly from ahead of them, pointing down the street at the building at the far end of the block.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Caduceus says beside him, smiling faintly.

The building stands out from those around it, tall and thin and unique in its construction, built of pale stone with delicate gold accents inlaid in the wooden frames of the windows. There’s a multi-colored stained glass window across the front above the small marquee that displays the name in swirling golden script.

Jester leads them to the front door, waving brightly to the doorman, who nods and flashes her a familiar smile before letting them in.

“Your mother is in her dressing room if you would like to see her before the show,” the doorman says as Jester passes him.

“Thank you, Tyral,” Jester says, patting him lightly on the cheek before ushering them all inside with her.

The room is large and circular inside, dimly lit and lavishly decorated with deep blue curtains of crushed velvet hanging from the walls. There are tables scattered around the room surrounded by plush chairs upholstered in the same blue velvet, gold inlay across the backs and arms. There’s a small, half-moon stage at the far side of the room, strands of what look to be twinkling gemstones dangling from the ceiling, winking and gleaming in the low light, pale and multi-colored from the stained glass window directly opposite it. There’s a tightly wound spiral staircase leading from the side of the stage to a curtained platform about fifteen feet off the floor, presumably leading to a second floor, a man standing at the bottom with his arms folded imposingly across his chest. About half the tables are full, though more people are beginning to filter in behind them even as they pause just inside the entrance.

“We’re in the VIP section,” Jester whispers, gesturing towards the other side of the room where several tables are cordoned off with velvet rope, seated atop a raised dais just to the right of the stage.

Caleb follows her with the others, still gaping a little at the opulence.

“You look overwhelmed,” Caduceus mutters at his side.

“I think the furniture in here is worth more than my parents have made in their lives,” Caleb replies feebly. He feels shabby and under-dressed and quickly runs his hand self-consciously over the stubble on his jaw.

“You look fine,” Caduceus says, seeming to read his thoughts and smiling reassuringly.

Caleb wraps his arms around himself almost automatically, fingers scratching at his bicep as they follow Jester to the table closest to the stage and sink into their chairs.

“I’m going to go talk to my momma for a minute, okay?” Jester says in a loud whisper. She gestures to the closed, leather-bound menus at each of their seats. “Pick whatever you guys want, my favorite is the duck.” She pats Fjord on the shoulder before slinking off towards the spiral staircase, giving the man at the bottom a quick hug before he moves aside to let her up.

Caleb drums his fingers nervously on the tabletop, leg jiggling beneath the table. He stills when Caduceus’ hand settles warm on top of his own.

“Are you okay?” Caduceus says quietly so Fjord can’t hear where he’s on Caleb’s other side looking through the menu.

“I feel very out of place here,” Caleb replies under his breath.

“Tell me about it,” Caduceus mutters, glancing around the room with a grimace. “This place is a little rich for my taste.”

Caleb makes a soft, amused sound in his throat and nods, feeling reassured knowing he’s not the only one uncomfortable. Caduceus’ hand is still resting loosely over his own, large and bracing.

“We’re infiltrating,” Caduceus says with a slight grin as he withdraws his hand to flip open his menu.

Caleb laughs under his breath at that, relaxing in his seat and absently opening his own menu, eyes widening a little at the lack of prices. He doesn’t even recognize some of the ingredients listed on some of the dishes.

Caduceus hums next to him and Caleb glances over to see him frowning.

“Not very vegetarian friendly, are they?” he mumbles as his eyes scan down the page.

“I meant to ask you,” Caleb says, setting down his menu. “Your sister is also a vegetarian, _ja_? Is this another family thing or is this a personal decision?”

“A bit of both,” Caduceus responds with a shrug. “My parents are both vegan so we kind of grew up with it but they said it was our choice once we got older. Clara is vegan, Cassius will eat anything, Corrin I think is mostly vegan. I tried staying vegan but it can get expensive on a college budget. The cafeteria isn’t really chock full of vegan options.”

Caleb smiles, resting his chin on his fist and ignoring his menu in favor of looking at Caduceus, his profile backlit by the soft glow of light filtering through the stained-glass window, his long, pale eyelashes catching the light as he blinks. He’s struck by a familiar feeling of profound, almost stifling infatuation and he prays that no one can see his expression in the dim light, sure it’s written all over his face. He forces himself to look away and back at his menu, barely seeing what he’s reading and feeling vaguely punch-drunk.

Jester returns a few minutes later, followed shortly by a waiter dressed in a smart black suit to take their orders. Caleb adjusts the position of his hand on the table under the guise of getting more comfortable, letting his fingers rest a hairsbreadth from where Caduceus’ own hand is sitting and feeling an absurd swell of elation when Caduceus doesn’t pull away, his gaze fixed on Jester as they chat quietly. He really is being ridiculous.

The lights dim and there’s a brief, excited buzz of whispering before the room falls hush. Jester reaches out to swat eagerly at all their hands, eyes fixed on the little curtained platform overlooking the stage, a pale spotlight shining on the spot. The curtain draws back and there’s a collective gasp from the audience around them at the reveal of the tall, stunning tiefling standing on the platform.

She has deep, blood-red skin, dark hair tumbling in elegant waves over her shoulders, her elaborate, twisting horns curling back from her temples. She’s dressed in a flowing gown of purple silk, little gemstones twinkling and flashing like stars across it. One hand is resting delicately on the banister, a faint smile turning up the corners of her lips as she looks down at the gathered crowd.

“Isn’t she _beautiful_ ,” Jester sighs as a soft violin begins playing. Caleb nods mutely.

The woman begins walking slowly down the spiral staircase and Caleb glances around to see every eye trained unblinkingly on her as she descends. She begins singing in a rich, operatic voice that fills the chamber. As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she begins slowly making her way around the room as she sings, smiling coyly and trailing her fingers lightly over tables as she passes. When she reaches their table, she flashes a wink at Jester, who beams back at her, before heading to the stage. Pale, colored light streams through the stained glass window over her, setting her awash in a soft glow that causes the gems on her dress and dangling from the ceiling to sparkle like a shower of stars.

Caleb glances at Caduceus out of the corner of his eye. He’s smiling softly, not looking nearly as enraptured by the performance as the other members of the audience but still keeping his focus on Jester’s mother as she sings. His hand is still resting on the table next to Caleb’s, so close Caleb thinks he could brush against it and easily play it off like an accident. There’s a building swell to the song that resonates in his chest so strongly it feels like an electric shock to his heart. He lifts his fingers, letting them hover for a long, indecisive minute before withdrawing his hand completely and resting it in his lap.

It takes him a few seconds to realize that the performance is ending, jumping a little at the sudden eruption of applause around him. Jester leaps to her feet, whooping and clapping furiously as her mother bows gracefully from the stage.

“That was nice,” Caduceus says, flashing Caleb a smile as the applause dies down once Jester’s mother has ascended back up the staircase. As soon as the door has closed and the curtain slid back shut, a fleet of waiters emerge with plates of food.

“Yeah,” Caleb replies, muttering thanks to their waiter as he sets down his food in front of him. He stares at it, suddenly having no appetite.

“Not what you wanted?” Caduceus says after a minute when Caleb still hasn’t touched his food.

Caleb shrugs and picks up his fork to prod at his plate absently.

Caduceus leans down so he can meet Caleb’s eyes. “If you don’t eat that, I’m going to feed it to you myself,” he says, nodding to Caleb’s plate. There’s something stern and domineering and unfamiliar in the way he says it that makes something in Caleb’s brain perk up curiously and his cheeks flush pink.

Caduceus has already straightened back up, seemingly unaware of the fact that Caleb’s brain is whirring furiously in his head.

“Well, if you put it that way,” Caleb mumbles, slowly beginning to eat.

“Good boy,” Caduceus says, his voice light and innocently teasing.

Caleb’s fingers tighten around his fork and his thoughts come screeching to a halt as something hot licks up his spine and, _oh_ , that’s something he’s not sure he wants to explore. He takes a long gulp of water, fingers shaking a little as he sets down his glass and glancing at Fjord and Jester to make sure they haven’t been paying attention to them, sighing in relief at the sight of them deep in conversation. His coat is suddenly constricting and overly hot and he tugs at the collar of his sweater.

He stays mostly silent the rest of the meal, grateful when their waiter finally collects their plates and they gather their things to head back out into the mercifully cool night air.

“Jester, are you sure you don’t want see your mom again?” Fjord says as he holds the door open for the three of them. Caleb takes a deep, clarifying breath of cold air as soon as he steps outside.

“Oh, no, she’s… busy,” Jester says enigmatically.

“Does she have another show?” Caduceus says curiously as they begin walking slowly back the way they’d originally come.

Jester snorts. “You could say that,” she says. “My momma is very popular,” she continues when the three of them give her confused looks. “People like to... spend time with her.”

Fjord flushes a little as understanding comes across his face, Caleb letting out a quiet, knowing, “ _ah_ ”. Caduceus still looks perplexed.

“Don’t worry about it, Caduceus,” Jester says, patting his arm gently. “Oh! Fjord and I are going to go get coffee, would you guys like to come with us?”

“I’m not really a coffee guy,” Caduceus says apologetically.

“Er, it is pretty late,” Caleb says, glancing at his phone. “Sorry, I think I’m going to head home. It was very nice, though, Jester, thank you for inviting me. And happy birthday, by the way.”

“You still have to say it on my birthday tomorrow,” Jester says sternly as they pause on the sidewalk and she pulls them both into hugs, given Caleb a pointed look that he ignores as she goes to hug Caduceus. “See you guys later! Thank you for coming!”

Caduceus almost has to crouch down to return her hug and Caleb bites back a laugh. Jester loops her arm through Fjord’s elbow and drags him off down the sidewalk in the direction of the coffee shop, waving at them over her shoulder. They both raise a hand in farewell until she turns around.

“I should, um, probably head home,” Caleb says, flashing Caduceus a sidelong glance.

“Why don’t I walk with you?” Caduceus replies, smiling.

“Oh, no, I will be fine,” Caleb says with a shake of his head.

“Nonsense, you’re not far from my place anyway.” He sets off down the sidewalk without another word and Caleb sighs in resignation before following after him.

He catches up to Caduceus, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walk alongside each other in companionable silence. It’s only ten more minutes to walk to Caleb’s apartment, but the mounting tension Caleb feels with every step, something expectant and vaguely hopeful, makes him squirm under his skin.

“Claribel asked about you the other day,” Caduceus says unprompted when they’ve been walking for a few minutes.

“Oh?” Caleb replies, frowning.

“Yeah,” Caduceus continues with a grimace. “Asked if I invited you to the wedding or not.”

Caleb hums in response, not sure what else to say. Caduceus had been clearly uncomfortable when his sister had assumed they were dating, he’s not sure why he’s broaching the subject with him again.

“I mean,” Caduceus presses on, not looking at Caleb, “if you wanted to, you could come. I’m not taking anyone else with me.”

Caleb stops walking, Caduceus doing the same upon realizing he’s no longer next to him after a few seconds.

“I am not sure that is a good idea,” Caleb says cautiously, watching Caduceus’ expression closely for any indication that his interpretation was wrong, his heart beating a little faster.

“Oh, yeah, I mean, it’s fine,” Caduceus says, shrugging and smiling glibly. “No big deal. I told her you probably wouldn’t want to come anyway.”

Caleb’s heart sinks at the affirmation.

“Right,” he mutters as they set off down the sidewalk again. The air is weirdly strained between them in a way that’s so unfamiliar to Caleb that it makes him feel anxious, grateful at the sight of his apartment building looming in the distance at the corner not long after.

Caleb slips his hand in his coat pocket for his keys as they reach the door. He stills and quickly checks his other pocket before patting down the pockets of his pants, swearing quietly when he finds nothing but his phone and wallet. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets again even though he knows they’re empty, closing his eyes and letting out a strained, humorless laugh.

“What’s wrong?” Caduceus says.

“I left my keys inside,” Caleb replies. He can clearly picture them sitting on the coffee table where he’d set them down earlier. He rakes his fingers through his hair in agitation. “And Nott is at work. Stupid. _Stupid._ ”

“Hey,” Caduceus says gently, laying his hand on Caleb’s arm. “It’s okay. You could… come back to my dorm to wait if you want?”

Caleb shakes his head, already pulling his phone out to text Nott to see when she gets off work. It’s nearly eleven and he’s silently praying she has an early shift that day.

“No,” he mutters, “I’m—it’s my fault, I’m so _stupid_.”

“Stop,” Caduceus says, still unerringly calm. He lays his hand on Caleb’s cheek, warm and grounding, and some of the panic clawing its way into Caleb’s brain recedes.

“Just take a deep breath,” Caduceus continues. “Everything will be fine.”

Caleb nods almost automatically and takes a deep, steadying breath, his quickening heart rate settling slowly back to its normal pace. His phone vibrates in his hand and he glances down at the screen.

"Nott says she gets off in twenty minutes," he says, relief seeping so quickly through his veins his knees wobble as the adrenaline leaves his system. "So she'll be here in about half an hour."

"See?" Caduceus says with a soft, reassuring smile. "Everything's fine." He tucks Caleb's hair behind his ear and Caleb can't stop himself from tilting his head into his touch as his thumb brushes over his jaw. He withdraws his hand and Caleb has to grip the hem of his jacket to keep from stopping him.

"I'm just going to wait here for her then," Caleb says, wrapping his arms around himself and sitting down on the cold concrete with his back to the door. “Thank you for walking with me.”

“Do you really think I’m about to leave you here alone?” Caduceus says as he sinks down next to him, so close his arm brushes Caleb’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that,” Caleb mutters. He pulls his knees to his chest and folds his arms over them, shivering as a chill wind blows up the street. He glances over as Caduceus shifts next to him, shrugging out of his coat, which he drops over Caleb’s shoulders. It practically engulfs him.

“Stop,” Caduceus says, firm but kind when Caleb opens his mouth to argue. “I told you, I don’t get cold. I’m fine.”

Caleb shrinks a little, pressing his lips together and resting his chin on his folded arms. He catches the faint smell of sandalwood and his stomach swoops pleasantly. He can see Caduceus smiling faintly in the corner of his eye, his head tilted back and eyes closed serenely. Caleb wonders how he would react if he took his hand where it’s resting on the concrete between them and tangled their fingers together. His chest aches at the thought of it and he feels utterly ridiculous for being this besotted over something so innocent.

He thinks of Molly and suddenly feels sick with guilt again. It feels like his brain and heart are both being pulled in opposite directions and he has no idea how to deal with it. This unrequited fixation with Caduceus leaves him with a hollow sort of pang in his chest that hurts more than he cares to admit. And he can sense his feelings for Molly deepening beyond the initial intense, lingering spark of attraction that still draws Caleb to him like a moth to flame.

“I had fun tonight,” Caduceus says, shaking Caleb from his thoughts as he tilts his head to the side to look at him, smiling.

“Me too,” Caleb mumbles, wrapping his arms a little tighter around his knees.

“Are you, um, are you free next weekend?” Caduceus says hesitantly.

Caleb glances over at him. His cheeks are flush with cold, expression questioning and unsure.

“As far as I know,” Caleb replies with a shrug. “Why?”

“I realized I’ve never made good on my promise to teach you how to cook,” Caduceus says apologetically. “Maybe we could do something Saturday. There’s a really great indoor farmers market in the city I like to go to. There’s not much in season right now but we could take the bus then come back here. If you’re busy though…”

“No, I’m not,” Caleb says. “That sounds like fun.”

He’s not sure why he keeps torturing himself like this, subjecting himself to this twisted emotional self-flagellation knowing full well nothing will ever become of it, not just with Caduceus but with Molly as well. He supposes it’s his own fault, letting himself get so attached in spite of his albeit feeble attempts not to.

“Are you ready for midterms?” Caleb asks when he can no longer take the still silence.

“I think so,” Caduceus replies. He flashes Caleb a smile. “Thanks to you. It’ll be weird though. It’s my last ones before I graduate. I’ve only got a couple months left.”

The words hit Caleb like a slap to the face. In the midst of everything, he’d forgotten entirely that Caduceus was a senior and would be gone at the end of the semester. He doesn’t understand how, after only having had him in his life for a few months, the thought of him being gone from it forever makes him want to be sick.

“Oh, yeah,” he says quietly. “Are you… moving back home when you graduate?”

“I’m not sure,” Caduceus says, frowning. “My parents kind of want me to go back so I can do all the flower arrangements for funerals and stuff, keep it in the family, you know? But… I dunno. I like it here. As much as I miss my family, there are things here I don’t really want to leave.” His eyes are fixed almost vacantly on the sky overhead, a deep swath of inky black spattered with stars.

“I hope we can keep in touch,” Caleb says, choosing his words carefully, “wherever you go.”

Caduceus looks at him then with an indecipherable expression, shrewd and almost mournful.

”I’d like that,” he says earnestly, eyes bright and sincere. Caleb wants so badly to touch him, to cup his face in his hand and kiss him that the mere thought of it makes him dizzy.

He reaches out to brush his hair behind his ear before he can stop himself, letting his fingers linger on the downy soft shell of his ear before pulling away. He sucks in a sharp breath when Caduceus catches his wrist in his own hand, eyes still fixed on Caleb’s face.

“Your fingers are freezing,” he says, sounding concerned.

He turns Caleb’s hand over, lifting it up and tilting his head to the side. His lips brush the backs of Caleb’s knuckles as he blows warm air over his fingers before gently flipping Caleb’s hand to do the same to his palm, his eyes heavy-lidded and fixed on Caleb’s hand. Caleb’s thumb catches his bottom lip when he lowers his hand, dragging across it, and there’s a flash of something heavy and intent in Caduceus’ eyes that makes him think for one wild moment he’s going to kiss him. But then the moment is gone and Caduceus is wearing that same fretful look and Caleb fears his heart might actually be in danger of bursting in his chest at the speed it’s pounding against his ribcage.

“Here,” Caduceus says, reaching out to take Caleb’s other hand and covering them both easily with his own, warmth seeping into Caleb’s skin at the touch.

“You know, you really should get some gloves,” he says, faintly teasing. “I’m not always going to be here to keep you from getting frostbite.”

Caleb laughs weakly.

He keeps his hands still where they’re curled between Caduceus’, resisting the desire to turn them over to twine their fingers together. It’s quiet and still around them, the road empty in the late hour, and Caleb allows himself the meager recompense of shifting his weight to one side so he’s just barely leaning against Caduceus’ side, Caduceus’ arm warm against his own.

When Caduceus doesn’t withdraw, Caleb hesitates only a moment before tilting his head to the side to rest on Caduceus’ shoulder. Caduceus doesn’t react beyond his fingers twitching around Caleb’s hands, tightening briefly before relaxing again. Caleb is surprised he can’t hear the thump of his heart in his chest.

He feels more than he sees Caduceus turn his face towards him and he braces himself for the rejection, lets his eyes fall shut to savor the last moments of contact. But Caduceus doesn’t say anything. Caleb feels the gentle graze of lips to the top of his head, not a kiss, barely a brush against his hair, then Caduceus is mirroring his position and resting his head against Caleb’s. His shoulder rises and falls under Caleb in a quiet sigh and Caleb can’t stop the giddy smile that spreads across his face.

They don’t speak, huddled in the doorway in the cold, sharing warmth as they wait for Nott, though Caleb thinks now he’d be fine waiting a little longer. She shows up five minutes later, though, jogging down the sidewalk towards them and breathing heavily, looking panicked.

“Caleb, are you—oh, hi, Caduceus.” She stops short, eyes flicking between the two of them before landing on Caleb, brow furrowed almost indiscernibly.

“I didn’t want him to have to wait alone,” Caduceus says as he releases Caleb’s hands and pushes himself to his feet, holding a hand out to Caleb to help him up.

“Right,” Nott says, still looking at Caleb intently. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Caduceus replies. He looks to Caleb, giving him a soft, affectionate sort of smile that feels private, intimate, despite Nott being there. “I’ll get going then.”

Caleb nods reluctantly. The thought of inviting him to come inside is halfway to his mouth before he stops it.

“Let me know when you’re back,” he says instead. “Just… it’s late.”

“Sure.”

Caleb hugs him before he can stop himself, slipping his arms around Caduceus’ waist and letting his hands rest flat against his spine as he presses his cheek against his chest, warm against his skin. Caduceus hugs him back and Caleb feels wonderfully surrounded by him. He can hear the steady _thump_ of Caduceus’ heart in his ear, the rich, woody scent of him filling his nose. He feels warm and soft and safe.

Caleb steps back when he thinks he’s reaching the point of too long, thinking how natural it would feel to tilt his head up and kiss him, instead of pulling away completely. But he doesn’t, and he does, Caduceus patting him on the shoulder and smiling.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” he says. He raises a hand in farewell to Nott, who’s still looking at Caleb, and turns to leave.

“See you then,” Caleb says meekly, watching him go until he turns the corner at the end of the block. He turns at the sound of Nott’s keys jingling as she unlocks the door. She looks back at Caleb as she pushes it inward, that same searching, analytical look, though it’s verging on hurt now.

“Caleb,” she says carefully, bending down to scoop up Frumpkin to keep him from slipping outside. “Can we… talk?”

“Yeah,” Caleb mutters, not quite able to meet her eye the way her expression makes him squirm with guilt. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17 is finally done and sitting at 16k, time to finally move to chapter 18 (which I already have half written along with chapter 19). Total word count is sitting at about 120k so fuck my entire life I guess. 
> 
> Thank you as always for your comments, to Phoenix for beta-ing, to Dani and Angie for listening to my endless screaming about this monstrosity, Alarnia and everyone else in the clayleb discord who puts up with my constant posting of random snippets. You are all very good at motivating my idiot ass to finish this thing.
> 
> Playlists updated for the chapter  
> Caduceus: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6KtlFqamabc6n40tw3kFcv  
> Molly: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dtLgEt6a81XScs8C2fc5M
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CW this chapter for panic attacks and some mild self-harm*
> 
> more art!! Thank you Nicole for this adorable piece I love it so much! https://twitter.com/azamackdaddy/status/1120192252553388032

He follows her inside, locking the door behind himself and accepting Frumpkin when she holds him out to him.

“I’ll be right back,” she says as Caleb sits down on the couch, legs tucked under him. Frumpkin purrs contentedly as he puts his paws on Caleb’s shoulder to bump his head against Caleb’s chin. Caleb pets his hand almost automatically down his back.

Nott returns a few minutes later with two mugs of hot chocolate so stuffed with marshmallows they’re nearly overflowing, passing one to Caleb before sinking into the seat next to him and curling against the arm of the couch.

“Thanks,” Caleb mumbles, taking a sip of his drink and humming at the warmth that settles in his belly.

“So,” Nott begins cautiously. “That—did something happen with you and Caduceus?”

Caleb can hear her restraining herself, sure she’s dying to ask him a hundred questions, but he’s grateful for her reserve. He sighs and turns his mug in his hands, staring down at the slowly melting marshmallows.

“We’re not… together,” he mutters. “If that’s what you mean. He doesn’t feel like that.”

“Caleb,” Nott says gently. “I saw how he looked at you.”

Caleb blanches. He knows what she’s talking about, he’s seen it, too, been on the receiving side of it, and spent weeks misinterpreting it.

“I know,” he says. “But I know what he said, too, Nott.”

“Does that mean that you… like him?”

“Yeah,” Caleb says quietly. “I do.” It’s the first time he’s admitted it out loud. It somehow feels like simultaneously lifting a weight from his shoulders while the one in his chest sinks even further.

Nott reaches out to lay a comforting hand on his arm and he flashes her a brief, pained smile.

“What about Mollymauk?” she says, tone still careful.

Caleb breathes out a laugh and rub his hand over his jaw. “I like him too,” he says.

“More than Caduceus? Or less?”

“I can’t answer that question,” he says honestly. It’s not a matter of feeling more for one than the other, though he wishes it was that simple, that he could quantify his emotions so easily, break them apart and weigh them against each other. Though while he may not feel that same hard ache in his chest at the thought of Molly, he thinks it’s because he knows his feelings for Molly have been slowly changing, and that Molly reciprocates his feelings. Or at least he did. He’s not sure if that’s still the case after what Jester did.

“So did you change your mind?” Nott says. “About making it, um, off-limits?”

Caleb shrugs silently and takes another sip of his cocoa, pushing Frumpkin back when he tries to paw at one of his marshmallows. His phone vibrates in his lap and he glances down to see a message from Caduceus on his screen.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _just got back to my dorm_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _sleep tight, Caleb :)_

“Caleb,” Nott squeezes his arm gently, shifting his attention back to her. “You’re allowed to want these things. You’re allowed to let yourself be happy. You beat yourself up so much, but you’re not selfish for wanting to be happy.”

Caleb swallows thickly and gives her a grateful, rigid smile.

“I know I can be overprotective,” Nott continues, “and I know people have been… meddling. But this is your life and your decision and if Mollymauk will make you happy then… what’s the harm in trying it?”

Caleb heaves a sigh and nods.

“You’re right,” he mutters. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

She smiles and pats his arm.

“I’m sorry about Caduceus,” she says with a sympathetic grimace. “Are you sure he doesn’t...“

“I don’t know anymore,” Caleb says hopelessly. “But I can’t just… wait around and wonder. I’ll get over it eventually.”

Nott gives him a reassuring smile and a one-armed hug around the middle.

“Thank you,” Caleb mumbles, leaning against her, fiddling with a chip on the lip of his mug with his thumb. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

“It’s okay,” Nott says with a shrug. She takes a gulp of her own drink and smacks her lips. “Hey, I don’t have to work Saturday, maybe we can go see a movie or something!”

“Ah,” Caleb grimaces, “I, um, Caduceus actually asked me to hang out. But I don’t think it will be all day,” he says hastily when she gives him a dubious look. “I’ll say something to him. Tell him… I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. But we can still go see a movie. My treat.”

Nott looks appeased by the offer, grinning at him before slurping down the rest of her hot chocolate.

“It’s pretty late,” she says as Caleb suppresses a yawn. “Go get some sleep.”

Caleb scoops up Frumpkin and drapes him around his shoulders, draining his mug before placing it into Nott’s outstretched hand. He drops a kiss to the top of her head before shuffling back to his room to go to bed, trying not to think about how much he’s not looking forward to coming up with a reason why he has to stop spending so much time with Caduceus—though he knows it’s necessary for the sake of his own emotional well-being—or about what he’s going to do when he sees Molly on Wednesday.

* * *

“Now, you have to—no, look, move this one over to this side of the equation.”

He feels Caleb watching him as he chews restlessly at end of his pen before jotting down an answer to the problem he’s working on under the four he’s already crossed out. He gives Caleb a pinched, hopeful look.

“That’s right!” Caleb says proudly, patting him encouragingly on the arm.

Caduceus heaves a relieved sigh and tucks his hair absently behind his ear.

“I’m going to fail this exam,” he says helplessly, slumping back against the wall behind him and pinching the bridge of his nose wearily.

“You won’t fail,” Caleb consoles him, giving his knee a squeeze. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if you did.”

Caduceus peers at him through his fingers. Caleb is smiling at him, soft and reassuring, and Caduceus thinks he might melt into the sheets just a little at the sight.

“If I fail, it won’t be because of you,” he says. He can’t let Caleb think his own inadequacy is his fault. “There’s only so much you can do. I told you, I’m not very smart, Caleb.”

“Stop that,” Caleb says sternly. “You are extremely smart and I have complete faith in you. You’re going to do fine.”

Caduceus smiles bashfully. “Thank you.”

“That is why I’m here.”

“No, not for this,” Caduceus says, holding up the study sheets Caleb had made for him. He rubs one hand over the back of his neck. “It’s just, I didn’t think I would be able to pass this class even with a tutor and you never doubted I could. Even my advisor was worried about me taking it.”

“You need to have more confidence in yourself,” Caleb says, frowning.

“I’m confident in what I know,” Caduceus says, shrugging one shoulder.

It’s not a lie, he’s confident that he knows the exact amount of water and sun each of his plants requires, that carnations can look better than roses if they’re paired the right way, that he could make a half-decent meal from just about anything if he had to—he _has_ had to when his budget is running thin. And he knows that he is thoroughly, undeniably, irrevocably enamored with Caleb Widogast.

Caleb is the first person he can remember—apart from his parents, as parents are obligated to do—to tell him that he’s smart. He’s never felt that he’s  _stupid_ , maybe a little slow on the uptake sometimes—it did take him weeks to realize he had feelings for Caleb after all—but he’s always been painfully aware of how easily things he struggled with had come to his siblings. They, save Corrin, had had no problem lording the fact over him when he’d come home shamefaced with another set of poor marks. It had improved slowly as they’d aged and matured, and once Caduceus had started college and been able to focus on things that could hold his attention, his grades begin to reflect appropriately. But he can still hear that nagging in the back of his head, usually in the voice of his sister, taunting him when he struggles with something.

But Caleb sees none of that, _knows_ none of that, insists that Caduceus stop doubting his intelligence when Caduceus knows full well that Caleb is astronomically smarter than him. And he’s never had someone treat him like that before, knows that most people see him as flighty and perhaps a little dim. He thinks it’s part of the reason why he enjoys spending time with Caleb, the fact that there’s not expectation or need to feel like he has to try and act a certain way around him.

“Well, you know this,” Caleb says firmly. “You are going to do just fine, _ja_?”

Caduceus gives him a broad, grateful smile, wavering when something in Caleb’s expression falters and he turns his attention quickly back to the worksheet they’ve been doing together. Caduceus looks down at his lap, watching Caleb out of the corner of his eye and trying not to stare. His hair is getting longer, falling loose around his face, the sharp line of his jaw dark with stubble and his blue eyes scanning the papers beneath his furrowed brow. There’s a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks that Caduceus would like to take the time to count and connect like stars.

While he’s always been able to appreciate whether or not someone is attractive, he’s never felt attracted _to_ someone like he is to Caleb. Never felt that bone-deep ache to be closer to someone. He’s not even sure when it started, all he knows now is that his skin craves contact in a way it hasn’t before. He’s never felt the want or need to kiss anyone before but he believes, thinks, _knows_ he’d be more than okay with kissing Caleb.

He wants so badly to come clean to Caleb about how he feels. But the very idea of it makes his stomach roil with nerves and his palms slick with sweat, which is another entirely foreign feeling, this jittery trepidation that keeps him from laying his heart at Caleb’s feet and hoping he accepts it.

“ _Ja_ ,” Caduceus echoes.

Caleb grins and gives his arm another pat. “Let’s work on the next one, okay?”

Caduceus bows his head over his lap and spends the next hour forcing himself to focus on chemistry instead of Caleb, which is difficult given the fact that he’s leaning over to help him every few minutes, talking with that soft, lilting accent that Caduceus thinks he could listen to for hours. He’s been struggling to get through the book he’d bought with Caleb—he likes the subject matter but he’s always been a slow reader—and wonders what Caleb would do if he asked him to read it to him.

When Caleb leaves for the evening, telling Caduceus to let him know what the plans are for Saturday, Caduceus stands at the door to watch him leave for a few seconds before slipping back inside and shutting the door. He pulls out his phone as he flops back onto his bed, sighing despondently.

 **_Caduceus_ ** _: Caleb just left_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I couldn’t do it, I’m not cut out for this_

The little bubble pops up on the screen to indicate Jester is typing and he watches it apprehensively.

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _whaaaat whyyyy???_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _I told you, you just have to be bold! Just grab his face and plant one on him! (ΦзΦ)_

Caduceus groans in embarrassment, face growing warm at the idea of “planting one” on Caleb.

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _Jester, I can't do that :(_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I’m not from one of your harlequin novels_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _but you could beeee (⊙ꇴ⊙)_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _just be all “oh Caleb your scarf looks so nice today it would look better on my floor” (•̀⌄•́)_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _why would I put it on the floor? It would get all wrinkled_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _oh Caduceus_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I’m sorry I’m trying_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _is it another sex thing?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _it’s okaaay_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _and yes it’s a sex thing_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _:\_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _you just gotta take charge! Caleb is your target, you need to take him down ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I’m not hunting him, Jester_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _(૭◉༬◉)૭_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _you can do it!_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I don’t know, he made it pretty clear he thought it would be inappropriate before, I don’t want to step over any boundaries or make him uncomfortable_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Caduceus, anyone can see he’s into you too! Besides, if you keep being so timid you’re gonna lose him!_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _you know Mollymauk is still trying to win him over, right?_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I assumed so_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _well, you are much sweeter and nicer than him, so YOU should be the one who dates Caleb. And you should tell HIM to back off ٩(๑`^´๑)۶_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I’m not going to do that_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I’m going to go shower and get some sleep, it’s getting late_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _just remember what I said_

 **_Jester Lavorre_ ** _: take charge! Sweep him off his feet! And tell me the second anything happens or I’ll never forgive you!!!_

 **_Caduceus:_ ** _I will :)_

He tosses his phone onto the bed next to him and presses his palms against his eyelids with a groan of frustration. If he would’ve known romance was so complicated, he would have taken better care to avoid it entirely.

* * *

Molly hasn’t been sleeping well since the incident in Beau’s kitchen. For awhile, when he closed his eyes he would always picture Caleb, but lately all he can picture is Caleb with _him_. Caduceus. It makes his blood burn with jealousy, but more than anything it makes his chest ache so painfully he’s taken to lying awake at night staring at the silent text thread he’s kept for the past two months with Caleb, fingers hovering over the keys, Fjord snoring quietly on the other side of the room.

He doesn’t want to be the first to say something out of fear that Caleb will confirm his biggest fear and tell him that he’s dating Caduceus now. And why wouldn’t he? Caduceus is, as much as he hates to admit it, tall and handsome and _nice_. Molly can be sharp and sarcastic and flirt with Caleb until he’s flustered and beet red, but when it comes to being romantic, being _sincere_ , he’s still trying to gain his footing. Molly has one thing to offer and if what Beau had said is any indication, Caduceus can beat him there as well.

Molly knows sex, knows he could make Caleb squirm and beg if given the chance, and he so wants to be given that chance. But that unfamiliar giddy feeling the thought of Caleb had given him has turned cold and so painful it makes him forget how to breathe, makes his throat tight and his stomach turn. He’d exposed himself to Caleb in a way he’s never done to anyone and Caleb had quite literally turned his back on him and—as much as he’d played it off like nothing had happened the next day—it _hurts._ And he feels silly for how _much_ it hurts. He’s known Caleb for two months and he already so helplessly captivated with him even the thought of kissing him makes him feel lightheaded.

He’s not paying much attention to where he’s going as he wanders down the hall to him next class, mind on his still silent phone in his pocket and the fact that he’ll be seeing Caleb that evening for tutoring. The thought of seeing him makes him feel simultaneously giddy and sick with dread. His shoulder knocks into someone as he’s walking, sending their books tumbling to the ground at his feet.

“Oh my god,” he says hurriedly, bending down to start gathering them up. “I am so s—“ He falls silent as he realizes who he’d bumped into.

“It’s no problem,” Caduceus says, kneeling down to help him pick up his things.

Molly remains silent as he passes Caduceus the notebook he’s holding, both of them standing up when Caduceus has his books tucked under his arm again.

“Have a nice day,” Caduceus says, nodding to him as he steps around him down the hall again.

Molly dithers for a few seconds before swearing under his breath and taking a few quick steps after him.

“Wait,” he calls, jogging up to Caduceus and stopping a few feet short when he turns to look at him expectantly.

“Yeah?” Caduceus says almost warily, clearly remembering their last encounter.

“Look,” Molly begins, folding his arms protectively across his chest, “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry, okay? For… how I acted. Before.” He sighs, looking down at his feet and scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpet. “It was stupid and probably kind of creepy and possessive and I shouldn’t have said it.” He glances up at Caduceus apprehensively.

Caduceus gives him an appraising look, head cocked to one side, and Molly shrinks under it.

“It’s okay,” Caduceus says at last.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus says with a slow nod. “I know what it’s like to fall for Caleb. And I understand that you were trying to make sure that I wouldn’t get in your way, so to speak.” He takes a step closer to Molly and that benign expression hardens just a little, turns a few degrees colder in a way that Molly doesn’t like. “Mollymauk, I don’t know you very well but I know of you. Are you sure Caleb is really what you’re looking for?”

Molly frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  

“What I’m saying,” Caduceus continues, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Molly, “is that maybe you’d be better finding someone more suited to your lifestyle.”

“My _lifestyle_?” Molly echoes, drawing himself up defensively.

Caduceus hums, smiling that same cool smile.

“Yeah. You know,” Caduceus says, taking another step towards him. They’re so close now Molly has to look up to see his face, “firbolgs usually mate for life. Unlike some people.”

Something icy and hard drives itself through Molly’s stomach and he takes a step back away from Caduceus at the dig.

Caduceus looks suddenly horrified, hand clamped over his mouth and eyes wide.

“I don’t know why I just said that,” he says, expression laden with apology. “Mollymauk, I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m not sure what came over me.”

Molly lets out a humorless chuckle.

“He’s gotten under your skin,” he says with a wry smile. “He has a way of doing that, doesn’t he?” Caduceus nods, expression still regretful. Molly half considers asking him if he and Caleb are together, but he decides against it. If he has hear about it, he wants to hear it from Caleb directly, somehow he feels like it might lessen the blow that way.

“You really like him, too, don’t you?” Caduceus says, still giving Molly that intense, searching look, though it’s warmer now, maybe a little sad.

Molly nods, folding his arms tighter across his chest. He feels vulnerable, exposed under those keen pink eyes. He’s not talked to anyone about this but Beau, Yasha, and, briefly, Fjord, and he’s still not sure why he’s talking to Caduceus about this. But there’s no give in Caduceus’ expression, no indication of backing down, and Molly’s lips twitch up in a tight, defiant grin.

There’s a few seconds of terse silence as they stand in the middle of the hall, exchanging sharp, analytical looks, the sea of other students moving around them. An unspoken understanding seems to settle between them and Molly tilts his chin up, jaw set firmly.

“I guess we’ll just see what happens then,” he says curtly.

“Yeah, I guess we will,” Caduceus says, smiling.

Molly thrusts his hand out towards him and Caduceus stares at it with a look of polite bewilderment before chuckling and accepting it, shaking it once, firmly before pulling away.

Molly wets his lips absently. “Well, I’d say good luck, but…” he trails off and Caduceus lets out a quiet, amused sound.

“I’ll see you around, Molly,” he says, offering Molly a final nod before turning and heading down the hallway.

Molly watches the back of his head for a few seconds before turning to walk in the opposite direction, his grin slipping off his face as his brow furrows into something more calculating. It still stings, having his own shortcomings thrown back in his face by someone he barely knows. But he’s glad he knows exactly what Caduceus seems to think of him, that it’s what everyone else seems to think of him, that he’s just there to get Caleb in bed with him.

He wants so much more than that, though, and he’s going to make sure Caleb knows that. He can be there for Caleb in whatever capacity he needs him, is willing to have him. As long as it keeps him close he thinks he’ll take whatever he can get now, even if he feels it might continue to break him just a little being so near him without being able to have him, wanting him so intensely it sets his veins alight and makes his chest ache.

* * *

Caleb spends the ten minutes walking to Molly’s dorm fretting over what he’s supposed to say to him when he gets there. He’s still torn between reassuring Molly and keeping quiet on the subject entirely. But he’s given up denying his feelings for both of them and he can feel his reasonings for fighting them at all crumbling around him. He thinks, maybe, he’s willing to take that first tentative step towards something that he’s been stopping himself from taking for so long.

When Molly opens the door for him shortly after he knocks, Caleb heart flips automatically at the sight of him. He’s dressed more casually than he usually is in a soft, too-large sweater and dark jeans, complexion pallid and dark bags under his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping. That, combined with the dejected, distant look in his eyes, makes Caleb’s stomach contract with guilt. He looks as exhausted as Caleb feels, but somehow he doesn’t think midterms are the only cause of it for him either.

“Hey,” Molly mutters as he stands back to let Caleb in, not quite meeting his eye.

“Hey,” Caleb replies, stepping into the room and dropping his bag into the usual spot by Molly’s bed as Molly shuts the door behind him. ”Are you ready for your exam next week?” This, at least, is a safe subject to start with.

“I think so,” Molly says as he sinks onto the edge of the mattress with a shrug, shoulders slumped. “I’ll probably mix up a few dates but the study guide you made is helping a lot.” His tone is unnaturally flat, eyes fixed on his fingers as he fiddles with the hem of his sweater.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Caleb says, smiling. “You are smarter than you think, Mollymauk.”

Molly smiles down at his lap almost shyly and Caleb thinks he sees his cheeks turn a shade darker.

Caleb clears his throat and bends down to dig through bag as he feels heat creep up his own face. “I was thinking we could do some review this evening to further prepare you rather than try and start anything new.”

“That would actually be great,” Molly says with a relieved sigh. “I don’t think my brain can handle anything beyond that today.” He slides off the bed onto the floor, leaning against the mattress and tucking one leg against his chest as he watches Caleb pull a stack of flashcards he’d made earlier that day out of his bag.

“You made me flashcards?” Molly says, the grin clear in his voice as he cranes his neck to look at them.

“Maybe,” Caleb replies, pleased to hear some of the life back in Molly’s voice.

“You are so fucking adorable,” Molly says, voice soft and almost overwhelmed with affection.

Caleb looks up at him, eyes wide, taken off guard, and his breath hitches at the look on his face, one of raw, pained longing, his brows knit and his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His eyes look overbright.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he tears his eyes from Caleb and stares at his lap again, the slightest shake in his voice.

“Mollymauk…”

He reaches out to touch his fingertips to the back of Molly’s hand, careful and featherlight, and Molly’s gaze lifts to him, eyes widening. His expression is so cautiously hopeful that Caleb lets his hand rest fully over his, squeezing gently. Molly wants this, _he_ wants this, _it’s okay for him to want this_.

“Caleb?”

Molly leans almost infinitesimally closer, his lips parted, wet and plump and inviting, and Caleb feels his eyelids drop in anticipation, his breath stuttering from his lungs.

And then his phone rings.

He almost ignores it, but it’s Nott’s ringtone and he knows she never calls unless it’s something important. He closes his eyes briefly, willing away the rush of disappointment and aggravation at being interrupted. But he’s waited for two months to let himself want this, to _have this_ , he thinks he can wait five more minutes.

“Sorry,” he mutters apologetically. “It’s Nott.”

Molly nods mutely, looking as frustrated as Caleb feels but still smiling with something akin to relief.

Caleb pulls his phone from his pocket and slides his thumb across the screen to answer the call before holding it to his ear.

“ _Ja_ , Nott?”

“Caleb!” Nott’s voice filters through the phone, breathless and panicked. “Caleb, Frumpkin got out! I’m looking for him now but I… I can’t find him.”

It’s like a switch flips in Caleb’s head, sharp, icy dread piercing his brain and flooding his veins.

“What?” His voice comes out choked with panic. His fingers tighten painfully around his phone, his hand trembling.

“What’s wrong?” Molly says, sitting up straighter and giving Caleb a worried, questioning look.

“I’m so sorry, Caleb, I was about to leave for work and I didn’t realize he was by the door and he just ran passed me.” Her voice is thick with self-loathing and Caleb would tell her to calm down if his own head wasn’t spinning.

He can feel his breath starting to quicken, sharp and shaky through his lips as his mind begins supplying a hundred different scenarios of how badly this could end. Frumpkin could be gone. He could get hit by a car. Someone could find him and not give him back. He feels nauseous.

“Caleb? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Caleb manages to gasp out. His vision is blurring with panicked tears. Molly is still watching him, looking increasingly concerned and Caleb feels raw and exposed and so fucking pathetic.

“I’m coming now,” he says to Nott, his voice dangerously close to breaking. “I’ll be there soon. Which way did he go?”

“Up the street towards that blue building,” Nott replies. She’s still breathing heavily and Caleb can tell by the way she’s jostling the phone, the loud slap of her footsteps in the background, that she’s still running. “I lost him after the first block but I’m still looking. I don’t think he would have gone far.”

“Okay,” Caleb says. He’s not sure how long he can be coherent feeling this way, panic sinking its claws deeper into his brain and tearing at his lungs. “Okay, I’m leaving now. Let me know if you find him.”

The call ends and the phone slips from his shaking fingers to the ground. He tries to stand and his knees shake dangerously under him. He grips his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp as air rasps down his throat, rushing in and out of his lungs in quick, painful bursts.

“Caleb,” Molly says, tone apprehensive and almost scared. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Frumpkin. Got out.” It’s all he can manage. He scratches his fingers roughly over his arms, clawing at his own skin, leaving angry red marks and stinging trails of pain with each raking pass.

“Caleb, oh my god, don’t—“ Molly jumps to his feet, sounding truly distressed now as he catches Caleb’s wrists in his hands to stop him from scratching himself. Caleb’s fingers clench and unclench uselessly. He looks anywhere but Molly’s face, eyes flicking rapidly around the room but not taking any of it in.

“Caleb. Caleb! Look at me, okay? Look at me, darling.”

Molly drops his hands and grips him hard by the shoulders, holding him in place, grounding him, and Caleb forces his darting eyes to look at him. He can’t breathe. His lungs don’t work right, won’t expand enough with each short, gasping breath he’s sucking in like he’s drowning. His whole body is shaking. His eyes burn and his head feels like it’s about to burst. He can feel tears on his cheeks and a wave of hot, sickening disgust hits him. _Pathetic_ .  
  
“I’m right here, okay?” Molly says, speaking slowly, clearly. “Focus on me, darling. Deep breaths, okay? Can you follow me? Can you nod so I know you’re hearing me?”  
  
Caleb nods frantically, swallowing even though his throat feels like it’s sealed shut.  
  
“Just do what I’m doing, alright?” Molly says, still holding him by the shoulders, centering him. He inhales slowly through his nose, chest expanding, and Caleb tries to match him, taking a shuddering breath and sobbing weakly when it rushes back out of him.  
  
“It’s okay, it’s okay, shh,” Molly says soothingly. “Try again, darling.” He breathes in slowly again and Caleb does the same, air stuttering into his lungs. It takes all of his energy not to let it go immediately, holding it there for a beat until Molly exhales slowly through his lips and he does the same.  
  
“Good,” Molly says, voice softening. “One more okay?” He breathes in and out slowly, smiling encouragingly when Caleb duplicates it. He can feel the panic scratching at his brain slowly start to subside with each methodical inhale-exhale. His spinning head gradually righting itself as oxygen begins to reach his brain again. Molly makes him breathe like that again and again until he’s finally satisfied he’s not going to start hyperventilating again.  
  
“Back in the game?” Molly says quietly once Caleb’s breathing has leveled out, his shoulders slumping with the sudden wall of exhaustion hitting him.  
  
“Yeah,” Caleb mutters. He can’t look Molly in the face, eyes fixed on his own feet, can’t stand to see the judgement that he knows will be there, the apprehension that he’s going to flip a switch at any moment again.  
  
But Molly simply kisses him on the forehead and pulls him into a tight hug, one hand rubbing calming up and down his back.  
  
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you, darling, just focus on breathing, okay?”

Caleb nods, burying his face in Molly’s shoulder as a sob chokes out of him. Molly shushes him gently as he cries, great gasping, shuddering sobs that make his whole body quake, tears soaking into Molly’s sweater.

“It’s okay,” Molly says over and over again, one hand holding the back of Caleb’s head while the other continues to rub up and down his spine. “It’s going to be okay. Shh, it’s okay.”

Caleb quiets after a minute or so, sniffling thickly as he lifts his head from Molly’s shoulder. He scrubs his hand over his eyes, wincing at how sore and puffy they are. His cheeks feel tight with the drying tears. His arms burn, pale welts raising where his blunt fingernails had dragged across his own skin.

“Can you look at me, darling?” Molly says gently, smiling encouragingly when Caleb does. He brushes away a tear sliding down Caleb’s cheek with his thumb, leaving his hand cupping Caleb’s face.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

Caleb relays what Nott told him, his voice wavering dangerously a few times, and Molly nods resolutely when he’s finished.

“Right,” he says. “Give me two seconds.” He pulls out his phone, brow furrowed as his fingers fly over the screen.

“Okay,” he says after a minute of typing. “I texted Fjord, some people who hang out at the bar a lot, and our theatre group which includes Beau and Yasha. Can you send me a picture of Frumpkin that I can send them?”

Caleb gives him a curious look but does as he’s told, biting down on his lip when his throat starts to close up again. Molly plucks a tissue from the box beside his bed and hands it to him, Caleb wiping his eyes discreetly and hastily blowing his nose as Molly turns back to his phone.

“Okay, I told them all to keep an eye out for him,” Molly says as he pockets his phone again. “Let’s go.”

“You—what?”

“Let’s go,” Molly repeats, already toeing on his shoes and grabbing his coat. “Look for him.”

Caleb stares at him.

“You’re… going to help?”

“Of course I am,” Molly says, looking at him like he’s just grown an extra limb. He bends down to pick up Caleb’s phone where he’d dropped it and presses it into his hand. “Darling, if you think for one second I’m just going to let you leave and stay here, you really don’t know me that well.”

Caleb bites his bottom lip hard again when it trembles.

“Come on,” Molly says, gentler, holding his hand out to Caleb, who takes it wordlessly in his own. They step into the hall and Molly locks the door behind him before walking briskly towards the exit.

“With any luck someone will spot him,” he says when they exit the building, everything around them awash with the orange glow of evening light.

“Are you okay?” Molly asks when they’ve been walking in silence for a few minutes, steps quick and purposeful in the direction of Caleb’s apartment. Molly is still holding his hand, firm and calming.

“Yeah,” Caleb mutters. It’s not entirely a lie. He can still feel panic threatening to burrow itself into his brain again, every now and then a fresh wave of terror washing over him as he plays out every horrible scenario in his head. But he’s present, focusing on the sound of their footsteps on the concrete and Molly’s hand warm in his own, counting backwards in his head over and over again.

Molly squeezes his fingers and they fall silent again. Caleb is glad for it, isn’t sure he’d be able to manage trying to hold a conversation right now if he tried.

“Which way did Nott say he went?” Molly asks when they reach the street Caleb’s apartment is on, turning on the spot to glance up and down the road.

Caleb points mutely and follows after Molly when he begins walking swiftly in the indicated direction, craning his neck to peer over bushes and behind trash cans as they go. They’ve been walking for a few blocks when Molly decides to turn down the next street and double back so they can check the alleys, anxiety slowly mounting in Caleb’s brain. He feels his breath quickening and stops, his arm pulling taut momentarily where their hands are still connected before Molly halts with him, looking concerned.

“Can we stop for a second?” Caleb chokes out.

“Of course,” Molly says, moving to stand in front of him and releasing his hand so he can rub his hands up his arms, over his shoulders and up the column of his neck to gently cup his fingers along his jaw. “Deep breaths, yes?”

Caleb nods and fills his lungs with a deep, fortifying breath, Molly watching him closely as he exhales.

“Good boy,” Molly murmurs, thumbs brushing over Caleb’s cheeks. His phone pings from his pocket and he pulls his hands away so he can retrieve it, Caleb catching one of them in his own before he can withdraw it fully, missing the touch.

Molly looks at him appraisingly for a moment before turning to his phone, eyes flicking over the screen.

“Someone found him,” he says excitedly. “He was just down the street from the bar. They caught him and—hang on, I’m going to tell them we’re on our way.”

He bites his bottom lip as he types out a message a little clumsily with his thumb, his other hand still gripping Caleb’s.

Relief floods Caleb’s brain so rapidly he feels light-headed, swaying on his feet and letting out a shaky laugh. He takes half a step forward and nearly collapses against Molly, who stumbles back and lets out a little _oof_ of surprise as Caleb slips his hand free and wraps his arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Molly says, squeezing him around the waist. “Let’s go get him, yeah?”

Caleb nods, stepping back but taking Molly’s hand again as they set off. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to call Nott as they walk, almost stumbling a few times, his legs clumsy and weak with relief.

“Caleb?” her voice is tense and worried on the other end of the line when she answers.

“Someone found him,” Caleb says. Is voice is thick from crying. “We’re going to get him now.”

“We?”

“Mollymauk is with me,” Caleb replies, squeezing Molly’s hand briefly. Molly glances back at him with a reassuring smile. “He had a bunch of people looking.”

“Oh,” Nott says, sounding bewildered. “Well that was—where is he?”

“At a bar just down the block from our place. Where are you?”

“I’m about five blocks up the street,” Nott replies, frustration clear in her voice as she huffs. “I’m heading back now. I told my boss I’d be late.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few then.”

They exchange goodbyes and Caleb slides his phone back into his pocket as they’re rounding the corner to the block where the bar is situated. There’s a little gaggle of people standing outside the entrance around a drag queen dressed in a glittery blue dress. Caleb can see Frumpkin held against her chest, looking perfectly content with the attention he’s receiving as people coo over him.

“Irena!” Molly calls as they approach, raising his hand in a wave.

“Hey!” the drag queen calls back, smiling and waving. She’s tall and dark, and it’s only when the crowd around her steps back a little that he sees one of her feet is in a cast. He vaguely remembers Molly’s conversation with the bartender when they’d come here last and thinks this must be the person she’d been referring to.

“Did you really chase him down in a dress and a cast?” Molly laughs when they reach her, eyeing her ensemble with a cocked eyebrow.

“Aw, he didn’t need chased,” Irena says, scratching Frumpkin under the chin. “I lured him in with some food from the bar. I hope that’s okay,” she adds, looking to Caleb apologetically.

Caleb nods, holding his arms out and clutching Frumpkin against his chest when she deposits him into his hands. Frumpkin immediately rubs his face against his chin, purring loudly. Caleb buries his face in his soft fur and hugs him tighter, closing his eyes.

“Thank you,” he mumbles thickly.

“No problem, honey. He’s a cute cat,” Irena says. “Cute guy, too,” she adds under her breath, nudging Molly with her elbow.

“Hush you,” Molly scolds admonishingly, clicking his tongue. He pulls out his wallet and Caleb watches him rifle through it before pulling out several bills, which he presses into Irena’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” she sings, folding up the money and slipping it under the strap of her dress.

“Yeah, yeah,” Molly mutters, looking forlornly at his much emptier wallet before tucking it back into his pocket. “Thank you again, darling. We better get going before this one—” he jerks his head at Frumpkin, who is now curled in Caleb’s arms, eyes closed, “—tries to make another escape.”

“Stop by soon,” Irena says as he turns to leave, gripping Molly’s arm. “We miss you around here.”

Molly hums. “I’ve been… busy. But I’ll try to come by soon.”

“Alright, get going then,” Irena says, patting his cheek fondly, her grin turning a little sly. “Go be _busy_.”

Molly tuts but doesn’t respond otherwise, allowing her to kiss him on the cheek before touching his hand lightly to Caleb’s lower back to steer him down the street towards his apartment.

“Did you… pay her?” Caleb says when they’re out of earshot. His hands are still clamped protectively around Frumpkin, fingers scritching absently at his ears.

“I promised whoever found him fifty bucks,” Molly replies airily. “Money is an excellent motivator, darling.”

Caleb feels such a rush of grateful affection for him he feels his throat tighten painfully and his eyes well with tears. He blinks hastily and ducks his head to bury his chin in Frumpkin’s fur.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Mm, it’s just money,” Molly says with a shrug.

But it’s not just money. And Caleb thinks Molly knows exactly how much it’s _not_ just money. But from the moment they met Molly has been exuberant and excessive in his affection, those sharp, lecherous edges sanding themselves down gradually to something softer, more genuine. And with it, Caleb has found his own feelings for him shifting from that hot bead of desire to earnest fondness that settles warm and soothing in his chest at the thought of him.

His feelings for Caduceus had been quick to manifest themselves, a near instant infatuation with his open kindness and concern for Caleb’s wellbeing, a low and steady glow. But his feelings for Molly had burned bright and white-hot, scorching and hungry, yet somehow growing more intense as that initial burst of heat calmed to leave the slow smolder of coals in its wake.

Nott still hasn’t returned when they reach Caleb’s apartment, Molly flicking the light on as he follows Caleb inside, hand still resting on his back.

“What do you need, darling?” Molly says as he helps Caleb out of his coat and shoes, Caleb still refusing to let go of Frumpkin. “Water? Are you hungry? Do you want to lie down?”

Caleb nods. “Lie down,” he clarifies quietly.

Molly slips his own shoes and coat off before following Caleb back to his room. Caleb crawls into bed on top of the blankets, lying on his side with Frumpkin pressed against his chest and facing the wall. He reaches back to pat the bed beside him, hearing Molly chuckle before the mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed to sit up against the pillows behind him.

“Do you want to get some sleep?” Molly murmurs, one hand coming to rest on Caleb’s shoulder.

Caleb hums in agreement. He feels completely sapped of energy, his limbs heavy and stiff from the repeated rush and drain of adrenaline to his system that always comes with a panic attack. Frumpkin is still purring furiously under his arm like a tiny motor, the sound vibrating in his chest, and Caleb lets his brain go fuzzy and blank as he closes his eyes.

He’s not sure if he ever really falls asleep or if he’s simply slipped into an exhausted stupor when he feels his cognizance returning to him. Frumpkin is still curled under his arm, purring loudly against his chest, and Caleb tightens his fingers protectively in his fur. His eyes are still closed and he can feel his consciousness wavering, threatening to slip through his fingers again when he becomes aware of a hand rubbing slow circles on his back.

Nott.

No.

Molly.

The hand is too large to be Nott’s and he can feel the occasional catch of fingernails through his shirt. The movement of his hand seems almost automatic, sliding up his spine and over his shoulders before repeating the motion in reverse, it makes Caleb feel relaxed and wonderfully heavy and he almost lets himself fall back asleep when he hears the door creak open quietly.

“How’s he doing?” Nott says quietly, concerned.

“Sleeping,” Molly replies. His hand is still rubbing Caleb’s back gently. “I was just going to let him sleep, he needs it.”

The mattress sinks as Nott sits down near Caleb’s feet, one hand settling warm on his ankle.

“This is my fault,” she says, voice thick with guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” Molly says. Caleb feels him shift, his hand disappearing from his back and resting on top of Nott’s in a reassuring pat before he sits back against the pillows again. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Nott sighs shakily and sniffs.

“Thank you,” she mutters. “For helping find him and for… everything else.”

“No need to thank me,” Molly says. His fingertips ghost over Caleb’s temple, tuck his hair behind his ear and trail down his jaw. “I’d do anything for him.”

Caleb’s brain still feels sluggish and numbed but his heart flutters weakly at the fondness in Molly’s voice. There’s a few seconds of silence as Molly resumes the slow stroking of Caleb’s back.

“You’re not what I thought you were, Mollymauk,” Nott says eventually, tone appraising.

Molly chuckles. “I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“It’s a good thing,” Nott replies, quiet and genuine. She pats Caleb on the ankle and slips off the bed. “I’ve got to get to work, I told my boss I’d be in as soon as I could. You’ll keep an eye on him?”

“Of course. I’ve got him.”

“Yeah,” Nott says thoughtfully. “Yeah, you do. Thank you again, Mollymauk.”

Molly hums and Caleb hears the door creak open and closed with a soft _click_. Molly yawns and makes a sleepy, satisfied sound as he stretches his back before settling deeper into the pillows behind Caleb, turning on his side to face him, his hand continuing that slow, methodical sweep up and down Caleb’s back. He drops a lingering kiss to Caleb’s head before letting his cheek rest against Caleb’s hair, the curve of his horn making the pillow dip above Caleb’s head, his breath warm along the back of Caleb’s ear as he exhales.

Caleb almost lets himself fall asleep like that, so badly wants to with Molly’s weight and warmth so near. He allows himself thirty seconds of savoring the close but not quite enough contact before taking a deep breath, groaning quietly and letting his eyes finally crack open. Molly’s hand stills on his back and his head lifts so he can peer down at Caleb.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, smiling tenderly. “How are you feeling?”

Caleb blinks, eyes still swollen and sore, and turns his head to the side so he can look up at him. He’s so close he could count every one of his dark eyelashes.

“‘M’okay,” Caleb mumbles groggily. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven,” Molly says, checking his phone. The dying glow of the sunset outside is painted across the wall above the bed. “You weren’t out for long. Nott just left to go to work.”

Caleb nods sleepily, eyes drifting shut again. He forces them open and rolls over so he’s facing Molly, Frumpkin chirping quietly before settling against his back in a tight ball again.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Molly murmurs, tucking Caleb’s hair behind his ear.

Caleb shakes his head silently.

"You're sure your okay?" Molly says, brows knitted with worry.

" _Ja_ ," Caleb replies, nodding. He sighs. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For... that," Caleb mumbles, shame crawling up the back of his neck.

"Darling, don't be sorry," Molly says with a shake of his head. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I do not like people seeing me like that," Caleb mutters.

"I'm not going to judge you, Caleb," Molly says gently. He chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment before continuing, "You know, when I lived in the home, we got lots of younger kids there. Middle schoolers, eleven, twelve years old who were trying to get out of shitty houses. And... I couldn't tell you the number of times they woke up panicking, crying... Yasha and I were the only ones that stayed as long as we did, usually they were gone pretty quick but we always did what we could while they were there, even if it just meant listening to them or just... sitting with them." He shakes his head and exhales, smiling grimly. "What I'm doing a really bad job of saying, Caleb, is that there's nothing to be ashamed of, feeling the way you do, for whatever reason. And don't  _ever_ think that I would think less of you for it. You're not broken, you're not defective. You're just you. And nothing you say or do is going to change the way I feel about you. Okay?"

Molly looks at him, eyes searching his expression, and Caleb only hesitates a moment before tipping his chin back and tilting his head forward to kiss him, his arm sliding around Molly’s waist to tug him closer. Molly pulls away and presses his fingers to Caleb’s lips before he can do it, though, and Caleb feels the cold sting of rejection like a needle through his chest.

“Darling,” Molly says quietly, letting his hand cup Caleb’s cheek, his thumb grazing along his bottom lip. “You have no idea how badly I want this. But you’re not in the right headspace for it right now. You need to rest and let your brain recover, okay?”

He’s right. Caleb _knows_ he’s right, but it looks like it’s causing Molly physical pain to say it, his eyes flicking longingly to Caleb’s lips and his brows drawn together, and Caleb wants and wants and _needs_ so badly he can barely breathe. He’s _letting_ himself want for the first time and he’s not sure he cares to see reason right now.

“Plenty of time for that later,” Molly murmurs, kissing Caleb’s forehead softly. He pulls back to give Caleb a long, questioning look before reluctantly saying, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want you to feel—you’ve just been through a lot. I just want to make sure this is what you want because _you_ want it.”

“It is. I do,” Caleb says, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long to admitting it to myself. And you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Molly says, knuckles brushing lightly over Caleb’s cheek. “I would wait however long you needed, darling.”

Caleb buries his face in Molly’s shoulder as his eyes burn with the blur of tears, fingers bunching in the back of his sweater. He breathes in deeply, inhaling the soft scent of lavender and detergent that feels like a balm to his frayed, exposed nerves.

Molly rests his chin on the top of his head, fingers combing slowly through his hair.

“Thank you,” Caleb mumbles, voice muffled in Molly’s sweater.

Molly lets out a little hum of laughter, the sound vibrating in his throat.

“For what?” he says, cocking his head to the side when Caleb pulls back enough to look at him.

“Everything.”

Molly smiles, cradling Caleb’s face in his hand.

“Darling,” he says, the word so flooded with affection Caleb can’t stop himself from leaning into his touch. “There’s no need to thank me. I would do anything you ask of me. Do you want me to run down the street nude singing showtunes? Because I’ll do it.”

Caleb laughs, the sound still a little watery from crying, and Molly’s lips turn up in a shade of the familiar smirk Caleb has seen him wear so many times. It fades into something more fond, not quite as familiar yet but something he knows he wants to be. He pulls his arm back from around Molly’s waist, lifting his hand up to press his index and middle finger to his own lips. His eyes never leaves Molly’s as he watches him curiously, brows furrowed. He kisses his fingertips before pressing them to Molly’s lips, feeling them part in surprise under his touch, a gust of warm air across his skin as Molly exhales. He pulls his hand back and sees Molly’s throat bob as he swallows, touching his own fingers to his lips absently.

That same intense, unspoken and unfulfilled something hangs between them like it had at Beau and Jester’s apartment, so agonizingly close that the air between them feels thick with it, oppressive in Caleb’s lungs. He sees Molly’s jaw work as he chews at the inside of his cheek.

“Next time,” he breathes, fingers sliding through Caleb’s hair to rest on the back of his neck. “I’m not letting you get away from me again.”

Caleb thrills at the promise in his voice, nodding silently.

Molly kisses his forehead again before scooting back from him enough to put space between them, like the mere act of being close to Caleb is breaking his resolve. He tucks one hand under his head, watching Caleb with that same longing affection, though it’s not as pained now, something assured and content instead of distressed.

Silence falls between them, warm and comfortable, and Caleb feels his eyelids drooping again, letting them slide shut as sleep threatens to overtake him.

“I should get going,” Molly says quietly after a long minute, sounding reluctant. The mattress creaks as he moves and Caleb reaches out between them to clasp Molly’s hand where it’s curled against the sheets. He feels Molly go still and forces his eyes open just enough to look at him.

“No,” Caleb murmurs, fingers a little clumsy with exhaustion as he slips them through the spaces between Molly’s, his palm pressed to the back of Molly’s hand.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Molly looks down at their joined hands and smiles softly.

“Okay,” he whispers, tightening his fingers around Caleb’s, his thumb rubbing over Caleb’s pinky. “I’ll stay.”

Caleb smiles and lets his eyes drift shut again. He focuses on the slow, soothing brush of Molly’s thumb on his skin, on the steady sound of his breathing and Frumpkin purring, and quickly sinks back into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your comments! I'm now finished chapter 18 and almost done with 19 so I'm in the home stretch! Word count wise, I'd say we're about at the halfway point now with what's been posted so far, the last few chapters will definitely be a tad shorter. I've also got my next fic plotted out and can't wait to start writing once this is finished!
> 
> Playlists are updated and I created this doc that lists the songs by relevant chapter for reference (links to playlists are in the doc, figure it's easier that way)
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-iyuOCQ79c97vcmUvgD5uOaptUbxtQew1RJh9276Uw0/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Have a great week!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

When Caleb wakes up the next morning to the blare of his alarm, the bed is empty save for Frumpkin curled into a ball under his arm. He lightly touches the wrinkled sheets where Molly had laid with a vague sense of disappointment, thought he smiles at the memory of Molly’s careful touch, the tenderness in his gaze that makes him feel wonderfully warm and giddy with the anticipation of seeing him again.

He drags himself out of bed and plods to the bathroom before heading down the hall towards the kitchen, craving caffeine after the strain his body and brain had suffered the night before has left him feeling a lingering sense of exhaustion. Nott is sitting at the table eating breakfast when he shuffles into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, still sore and gummed with sleep.

“Where is Mollymauk?” he mumbles, scratching absently at the back of his neck as he sets about making coffee.

“He left about half an hour ago, said he had to go home to get ready for class,” Nott says around a mouthful of toast. She swallows. “He said he wanted to let you sleep. He left you a note though.” She nods to a folded piece of paper on the counter.

Caleb presses the button to start the coffeemaker before plucking up the note, frowning at the way the edges are wrinkled, like it was hastily refolded.

“Did you read this?”

“No!” Nott says evasively. “Maybe.” Caleb gives her a flat look and she slouches guiltily in her seat. “Okay, yes, I read it, but I’m just trying to look out for you, Caleb,” she adds hastily.

Caleb rolls his eyes fondly and flips open the piece of paper, stifling a yawn as he reads if.

_Good morning, darling,_

_I didn’t want to wake you, you seemed like you really needed the sleep and you looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m pretty busy the rest of the week and I’ve got plans this weekend to go out of town with Yasha and Gustav but why don’t you stop by rehearsal Monday evening if you’re not busy? Then maybe we can talk after? I can’t wait to see you again. Let me know if you’re free Monday._

_Molly_

There’s a little heart scrawled next to Molly’s name and Caleb touches it lightly, smiling.

He thinks he half remembers the phantom feeling of fingers pushing his hair back, lips pressed to his temple and a soft murmur in his ear—though he can’t recall the actual words—but he’s not entirely sure if it was a dream or one of those peculiar twilight moments halfway between sleep and wakefulness that’s soft and out of focus in his memory.

“So are you two a thing now?” Nott says as he looks up from the note and folds it neatly to slip in his pocket.

“Mm, maybe?” Caleb says, unsure now that she’s posed the question. He’s not sure what name to give whatever he and Molly have finally started. “We have not really talked about it. But I want us to, erm, be a thing so I hope so.”

Nott smiles. “I’m happy for you,” she says, sincere. “I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy, especially,” she adds. She gives Caleb another fond look before turning back to her toast.

“Me too,” Caleb says quietly.

He’s still amazed by the fact that Molly has seen him at his lowest, his most pathetic, and isn’t running away from him, still wants to see him rather than being disturbed or even fearful. He’s never felt so exposed to someone else before save Nott or his parents and it should terrify him— _did_ terrify him—but instead he just feels a swell of grateful affection towards Molly.

He dumps a cup of food in Frumpkin’s dish, pours himself a cup of coffee and grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter, mumbling that he has to get ready for class before heading back to his room. Setting his coffee down on the side table, he pulls out his phone and sits on the edge of the mattress as he types out a message to Molly, absently taking a bite of his apple as he does.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Monday works fine for me. When should I get there?_

When no response comes through immediately, he begins getting himself ready for class, taking a scalding hot shower to scour the lingering, grimy feeling of anxiety from his skin. He pauses in the act of buttoning his shirt when his phone dings in quick succession with several messages.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _good morning, darling! I hope you slept well! You looked so sweet all cuddled up with Frumpkin. Are you feeling better this morning?_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _and probably 6 on Monday? Rehearsal starts at 5:30 but it usually takes awhile for everyone to get started_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I can't wait to see you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _ugh I wish I wasn’t so busy!!_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I’m gonna kiss you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _like, a lot_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _get your lips ready_

Caleb laughs quietly, a fond swell of affection in his chest.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’ll do my best to prepare_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _thank you again for last night, I’m feeling much better now_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I told you, no need to thank me, darling_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _anything for you <3 _

**_Caleb:_ ** _you’re very sweet_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I taste even sweeter ;-)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _hm, I suppose I’ll have to find that out for myself_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _oh, I expect you to_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _ugh I gotta get to class, but text me later, yeah? I can’t stop thinking about you_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’ve got my first midterm today so I will probably need the distraction later_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _darling, I can be VERY distracting if that’s what you’re after ;-Y_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _perhaps_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _you tease_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I love it_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _and don’t think I’m not going to make good on my promise to make you feel good when I get my hands on you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _Okay I reeeally gotta go now, byeee xoxo_

 **_Caleb_ ** _: have fun in class, Schatz_

He sends the message before he can delete the last word, feeling bold and giddy.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I just looked that up and!!! <3 <3 <3 T-T _

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _you’ll be the absolute death of me, darling_

Caleb can’t stop the pleased smile from spreading across his face. He puts his phone down to stop himself from texting Molly again, quickly guzzling his cooling coffee and gathering his bag. He pokes his head into the kitchen to say goodbye to Nott before heading out the door into the cool morning. He feels light, buoyant in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, certainly not the night after having a panic attack, which usually leaves him spending the following day holed up in the dark petting Frumpkin robotically to try and regain his bearings.

Nott was right. As much as his subconscious doubt wheedles its way into his brain, he’s allowed to want this, allowed to be happy. Molly makes him happy. Molly makes him feel wanted and attractive and cared for and he wants to make Molly feel the same way.

He carries that floaty feeling with him the rest of the day, occasionally texting Molly between classes about inane things. He marvels at how readily that easy flow of conversation returns as if nothing had changed between them, though Molly is much more openly flirtatious again, often ending his messages with little hearts and slipping suggestive quips in every now and then.

When his last class ends, Caleb makes the split second decision to stop by Molly’s dorm, eager to see him if only for a few minutes. But when he knocks on the door, rocking nervously on his feet, it’s Fjord that opens the door instead, lifting an eyebrow when his eyes land off Caleb.

“Oh, hello,” Caleb says, peering over Fjord’s shoulder into the room. “Is Molly here?”

“No, uh, he always hangs out with Yasha on Thursday,” Fjord says, leaning against the doorframe. His posture is tense, eyes sweeping over Caleb keenly. “I think they’re seeing a movie tonight.”

“Ah,” Caleb says, shoulders slumping dejectedly. “Well, that’s okay.”

“You want me to leave him a message or something?”

“Um, no that is okay,” Caleb says with a shrug. “Oh, but, ah, could you give him something for me? For his exam Monday.” He digs into his bag and pulls out the set of flashcards he’d made for Molly that they hadn’t been able to use the night before.

Fjord accepts them, turning them over in his hand almost suspiciously.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. He folds his arms across his chest. He sighs, looking reluctant. “Look, I gotta ask, because as big of a pain in the ass he is, Molly’s my roommate and my friend. What exactly is going on with you two? Because I know he saw you last night. And he showed up at the asscrack of dawn this morning looking like he was about to start doing cartwheels down the hall. But I know what Jester is trying to do, too. She’s not exactly subtle.”

Caleb is thrown by the unexpected interrogation, blinking up at him as he regains his footing.

“There is nothing going on between me and Caduceus,” he says eventually. “I care very much about Mollymauk, and we are… figuring things out right now, but I want to be with him. Is that what you’re looking for?”

Fjord makes an amused noise, the stiffness fading from his posture and his arms unfolding to hang at his sides instead.

“That’ll work,” he says. He gives Caleb a long, calculating look. “He really likes you a lot, you know?”

“I know,” Caleb replies, smiling at the thought of Molly despite the fact that he’s growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I like him a lot, too.”

The air between them turns quickly awkward after that, Fjord clearing his throat and rubbing at the back of his neck, not quite looking at him.

“Right, well, uh—“

“I will get out of your hair,” Caleb says.

“Yeah, um, see you, I guess,” Fjord mutters, frowning and looking embarrassed as he steps back into the room and shuts the door.

Caleb hitches his bag higher on his shoulder as he leaves, pulling his phone from his pocket.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I stopped by your room but you weren’t there so I dropped the flashcards off with Fjord_

His phone is silent all the way back to his apartment, not pinging with a message until he’s crawling into bed with Frumpkin curled on his lap and one of his recently acquired books propped open on his legs.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _nooooooooooo!!! I can’t believe I missed you T-T_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _wait, are you decent?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _yes…?_

He jumps when his phone flashes with the request for a video call from Molly. He fumbles with it for a moment before answering it and holding his phone up as Molly’s grinning face appears on the screen.

“Hey!” Molly says brightly. Caleb can hear the click of footsteps and see the scenery sliding past in the background as he walks.

“Hey,” Caleb replies. “I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

“Were you—“ Molly leans closer to the camera and lowers his voice, “—being naughty?” He laughs as he backs away from the camera again so Caleb can see his face. He looks flushed and happy and Caleb wonders if—hopes that—he has anything to do with it.

“I was reading,” Caleb says, holding up his book for Molly to see. “With Frumpkin.” He points the camera at Frumpkin, who touches his nose to image of Molly and meows.

“Hi, Frumpkin!” Molly says, waving to the camera. “Yasha, look at Frumpkin!”

He turns the camera and Caleb sees Yasha walking alongside him, dressed in a worn denim jacket covered in pins along the right breast pocket. She squints at the phone, giving the barest hint of a smile as Frumpkin yawns hugely.

“And say hi to Caleb, too,” Molly says when Caleb turns his camera back to his own face.

“Hello,” Yasha says flatly.

Molly rolls his eyes fondly as he turns the camera back on himself.

“How was your movie?” Caleb asks. He settles down further into the pillows, his free hand running over Frumpkin’s head.

“Really good,” Molly replies, “but they totally missed an opportunity for a lesbian romance, right, Yasha?”

Yasha grunts in agreement beside him.

“There was a cute cat in it though,” Molly muses. He shrugs and flashes Caleb another wide grin. “How did your midterm go?”

“Okay, I think.”

Molly snorts. “ _Okay_ , he says, like he’s not the smartest person on campus.”

Caleb flushes at the compliment.

“Oh my god,” Molly says excitedly, “there was this guy in the row in front of us—“

He launches into a story, gesturing broadly and occasionally pulling Yasha into the conversation to confirm the details. Caleb smiles softly, leaning back against the pillows and feeling a heady swell of affection for him as he recounts his evening.

“—ugh, and I think someone dumped their soda on the floor, my boots stuck to it the whole time. I hope it was soda at least.” He pulls a disgusted face and Caleb laughs. He can see familiar buildings behind him as he walks onto campus.

“Hang on,” Molly says, lowering his phone as he bids farewell to Yasha, the rustle of fabric loud through the speaker as he hugs her. “See you tomorrow morning, love.”

When the camera focuses on him again he’s smiling, lower lip tucked between his teeth.

“Hey,” he says, softer this time.

Caleb chuckles. “ _Hallo_.”

“Um, could I actually call you back in like five minutes?” Molly says, grimacing like he’s reluctant to say it.

“Sure,” Caleb replies.

“Okay, I’ll hurry,” Molly says. “Don’t fall asleep.” He blows Caleb a kiss before ending the call and Caleb picks his book back up. He only manages to get through a few pages, mind wandering to Molly every few sentences, when his phone rings again.

“Hello again,” he says when he answers.

Molly beams. He’s lying in bed on his side, the silk canopy around his bed pulled shut, dim light filtering through from the other side. The jewelry is gone from his horns and Caleb can just see the tops of his bare collarbones in the bottom of the shot.

“Don’t worry,” he says, seeming to catch Caleb’s gaze lingering on his skin. “I’m decent.” He flips the camera so Caleb can see down his body, heat stirring unbidden inside him at the sight of him, all soft curves and sharp angles and so much skin, smooth and marked with ink across his chest and arm. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of red briefs set tantalizingly low around his hips.

“Fjord won’t let me sleep naked anymore because he’s a big prude,” he turns his head back and raises his voice for the tail end of the sentence, smirking when Fjord’s muffled reply of, “no one wants to see your dick at four in the morning, Molly,” comes through the curtains.

“That’s what he thinks,” Molly says lowly, eyes roving over Caleb’s face.

“I need to confess something,” Caleb blurts guiltily.

“Oh?” Molly’s eyebrows raise up his forehead. “What’s that?”

“That picture you sent me,” Caleb says, lowering his voice so Fjord won’t hear him. “The, um, you know…” He clears his throat, watching Molly’s lips turn up in a lascivious grin.

“I remember,” Molly murmurs, “go on.”

“I might have… used it,” Caleb says, eyes fixed on Molly’s left horn so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes as heat creeps up his neck.

“Caleb Widogast, you little minx,” Molly sounds positively delighted at the confession. “When did this happen, exactly?”

“Erm, the day I told you we had to stop flirting,” Caleb mutters.

Molly laughs gleefully and Caleb can’t stop himself from smiling even as his face colors.

“I can’t believe you used me for your salacious fantasies after all that,” Molly says, almost sounding proud. “I’d be offended if I wasn’t so pleased.” His eyes flick down to Caleb’s lips and his tongue pokes between his teeth. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’d ask you to show me exactly what it looked like if Fjord wasn’t here.”

Caleb feels the blood drain from his face and rush south at the suggestion. He wets his lips and swallows. Molly smirks before his expression falls to something more serious. He makes a quiet, frustrated noise, propping his head up on one hand and pouting sullenly.

“I miss you,” he says earnestly. He sighs. “If we weren’t leaving so early tomorrow I’d come visit you right now.”

“Where are you going?”

“Gustav is taking us to New York for the weekend for Yasha’s birthday,” Molly responds. He shuffles a few things on his bed, propping his phone up and curling his arm under his pillow. He looks content and comfortable, eyelids drooping as he stifles a yawn into his hand.

“We’re taking a bus tomorrow morning and coming back Sunday night.” He blinks drowsily, giving Caleb a sleepy smile. “I’ll bring you a souvenir, yeah?”

“You do not have to do that.”

“Mm, but I really want to see you in a pair of ‘I heart New York’ underwear.” He grins when Caleb chuckles, his eyes drifting shut.

“If you’re leaving early, you should get some sleep, _Schatz_ ,” Caleb says gently.

Molly’s smile widens at the word, eyes still closed.

“Don’t hang up,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with sleep.

“Okay,” Caleb says, watching his features soften and hearing his breath slow as he falls asleep after a minute or two.

“Good night _, Liebling_ ,” he mutters, kissing his fingertips and touching them to the screen before ending the call. He plugs his phone into his charger and returns to his book, smiling to himself and running one hand methodically down Frumpkin’s back until some combination of his continuous purring and the lull of reading puts him to sleep.

* * *

Molly is relatively quiet Friday apart from occasionally sending him pictures with updates as they travel. Beau doesn’t question him about it during their tutoring session, frazzled and overwhelmed as Caleb drills her with questions for their mid-term the following week, though he catches her watching him with a unfamiliar look of approval when he checks a message from Molly and chuckles at the brief video of him, Yasha, and a tall man with long, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail who looks completely unprepared for being filmed as they walk down the bustling sidewalk, Molly’s arm slung around his shoulder and his forked tongue poking out of his mouth.

“We’re going to buy drugs!” Molly shouts as the man stumbles a little under his weight.

“We are not buying drugs, Molly,” he says, scowling and glancing around at passersby who look at them oddly.

“Dad, buy me a beer.”

“It’s ten in the morning and you’re underage!” Gustav cries. “And I told you to stop calling me Dad, I’m thirty-four!”

Molly cackles and leaps out of the way as Gustav tries to cuff him around the ears, the video cutting out a second later.

He doesn’t receive much from him after that, though he’s in the back of Caleb’s mind as he goes about his day. He’s in the middle of studying that evening when his phone pings on the bed next to him and he smiles automatically, expecting Molly’s name to pop up on the screen. It turns to a pained grimace when he sees Caduceus’ name instead, that cold lump immediately dropping into his chest again.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _want to meet at the bus stop on the north end of campus tomorrow around ten? I checked online and it’s mostly flowers out now but we can probably cobble something together if you still want to cook :)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Sure, ten works_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _See you then :)_

Caleb’s stomach contracts painfully at the thought of seeing him, spending the day with him and still wanting something he can’t have. He knows it will take awhile for him to get over Caduceus but he hates how much the thought of it hurts. He has to tell him today that he can’t spend so much time like this together anymore, even if he has to lie as to _why_ , he can’t keep putting himself through this, giving himself false hope. On top of it all he feels _guilty_ for feeling this way at all with the tentative something he’s starting with Molly ever-present in the back of his brain.

He shows up at the bus stop a few minutes before ten Saturday morning, raising a hand in greeting to Caduceus as he approaches, his chest lurching with that familiar ache of longing at the sight of him.

“The next bus is in five minutes,” Caduceus says, squinting at the schedule on his phone as he says it, Caleb sinking onto the bench next to him under the graffitied shelter of the otherwise empty stop.

Caleb hums in response, turning his phone over in his hands to keep himself from fidgeting.

“So I was thinking,” Caduceus begins, his voice warm and pleasant and still managing to do things to Caleb’s heart he’s not sure are strictly healthy, “since it might be a bust on food this early in the season, what if we got you a plant? I can show you how to take care of it and give you some plant food if you need it. They’ll probably have hyacinths and stuff out right now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Caleb says absently, standing as the bus pulls up to the curb. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he climbs onboard and takes a seat by the window, closing his eyes briefly at the pleased squirm in his stomach when Caduceus sits next to him, their arms brushing.

“Everything okay?” Caduceus says as the bus pulls away with a hiss of brakes and rumble of the engine. “You seem down.”

Caleb bites back a distraught laugh at the question, instead forcing a stiff smile.

“I’m okay,” he says, meeting Caduceus’ eyes for the first time that morning and feeling his resolve to break off whatever it is they’re doing failing at the heartfelt concern reflected back at him.

“You sure?” Caduceus lays his hand on Caleb’s arm, brow furrowing worriedly.

“Totally sure,” Caleb replies. He wonders if Caduceus has any clue on the things he’s doing to him, the constant sink and swell of emotions he feels when they’re together that’s like whiplash to his heart.

“Okay,” Caduceus says quietly, sounding doubtful but not pushing the subject. Caleb stares out the window as they drive but he can feel Caduceus’ eyes on him the entire time.

The air feels unnaturally strained between them as they step off the bus and head in the direction Caduceus indicates, nothing like the usual comfortable silence that often settles when they’re together. Caleb hates it, misses that easy ebb and flow of conversation he’s always enjoyed with Caduceus. He sees Caduceus glance at him every now at then out of the corner of his eye as they walk but he keeps his head bowed, hands in his pockets.

“It’s just up here,” Caduceus says, indicating the brick building on the opposite corner of the street. They pause at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change.

“Did I do something wrong?” Caduceus says suddenly, turning to face him.

Caleb glances up at him in surprise. His expression is fraught and open, eyes flicking over Caleb’s face, and Caleb feels guilt bubble up in his chest at the sight.

“No, no, you didn’t—” he sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, it’s been a long week is all.” He smiles reassuringly, some of the cold weight in his chest melting away when he receives a wide, relieved smile in return.

The atmosphere is a little more relaxed between them after that, Caleb trotting after him across the street and stepping into the building first as Caduceus holds the door open. He stifles a laugh as he waits just inside while Caduceus continues holding the door open for a full minute as people continue to filter inside. Caleb glances around as he waits, eyeing the mishmash of vendors selling everything from a variety baked goods to fresh meat and fish to jars of preserves. There are a few selling root vegetables and mushrooms but the majority of the ones selling fresh produce are laden mostly with bouquets and pots of flowers just beginning to bloom.

“Sorry,” Caduceus mumbles sheepishly when he eventually appears at Caleb’s side.

“Shall we?” Caleb says, gesturing to the nearest set of stalls, one selling fresh donuts and the other a variety of nuts from a glass case.

Caduceus grins and nods, looking entirely at ease as he leads Caleb inside and begins pointing out various vendors, waving at a few who seem to recognize him. He buys them both cups of hot apple cider that they sip as they peruse the different stalls, Caleb humming contentedly at the taste as warmth spreads to his toes and fingertips.

“Oh, here, this place always has good plants,” Caduceus says, pointing Caleb to a little table crammed full of pots in one corner, even more lined across the concrete floor around it. There’s a frail old woman seated behind the table, a pair of thick glasses perched on the end of her nose as she flips through a magazine.

“Hey, Agnes,” Caduceus says cheerfully as they approach, the woman peering up at them through her glasses, which magnify her eyes so much she looks like a small, wrinkled frog.

“Caduceus,” she replies in a wavery voice, smiling and pushing herself to her feet. She holds her hand up to pat his cheek and he has to bend down so she can reach him. “How’s that gardenia doing? Bloomed yet?”

“I think this year,” Caduceus says excitedly. “I almost lost it but I was able to fix it with a graft and it’s doing okay I think. Oh, Agnes, this is Caleb.” He turns back to nod at Caleb, who’s been watching the exchange with fond amusement.

The woman squints at him, blinking owlishly through her glasses as he raises his hand awkwardly.

“I wanted to buy him something,” Caduceus says, glancing over the pots. “What do you recommend for a novice?”

“Well,” Agnes says, furrowing her brow as she begins sorting through the plants with a considering look. “I’ve got African violets, begonias, did have some jasmine but someone bought my last one earlier.”

“What about this one?” Caleb says, pointing to a pot with a single, bright yellow tulip growing out of it between the broad leaves. “It is nice, _ja_?”

Agnes scrunches her face up, making it even more wrinkled.

“Eh, not really a houseplant,” she says. “And if you’ve got animals, it’s poisonous.”

“Oh,” Caleb says, deflating.

“Here,” Caduceus says, reaching over the table to grab a single yellow tulip from the clump of them loose in a bucket alongside red and pink ones and handing it to him with a smile before turning back to Agnes. “Maybe the violets, yeah? He’s got a cat.”

“Good choice,” Agnes nods and begins shuffling about wrapping up one of the pots with little purple flowers blooming from it.

Caleb stares down at the tulip, at a loss for how he’s supposed to interpret it as Caduceus pays for it and the violets.

“I could use some more honey,” Caduceus says a little absently as he hefts the bag with the pot in one hand. “There’s usually a vendor here if you don’t mind looking.”

“Yeah, of course,” Caleb mumbles, still frowning at the flower in his hand. He turns to follow Caduceus only to stop when a hand settles on his arm.

“Here, boy,” Agnes says, pressing a red tulip into his hand alongside the yellow one. “I think you need this one too.” She grins at him, her eyes nearly vanishing beneath the wrinkles as she pats his hand before releasing his arm.

Caleb stares at her, bewildered, before realizing Caduceus is already thirty feet away and hurrying to catch up with him, sticking the long stems of the flowers down into his scarf so just the bright blooms are visible along his collar. He finishes off his cider as Caduceus buys a jar of honey, chatting amiably with the man behind the counter for nearly five minutes while Caleb absently peruses the bottles of mead lined up in front of the register.

“Caleb, here, you want to try it?”

Caleb looks up to see Caduceus holding out a tiny wooden tasting spoon laden with pale amber honey.

“Oh, um, sure, okay,” Caleb replies, reaching for the spoon, his hand stilling in midair when Caduceus smiles and holds the spoon out towards his mouth instead.

Warmth creeps up the back of his neck and across his cheeks as he opens his mouth, closing his lips around the spoon when Caduceus sticks it in his mouth. His lips brush against Caduceus’ fingers as he draws the spoon back, absently licking a drop of honey from his fingertips. The honey is light, mildly sweet, almost fruity on Caleb’s tongue, much better than what he usually buys in the little plastic bears from the supermarket. He has the sudden wild thought of wondering what it would taste like on Caduceus’ lips and his stomach swoops at the idea.

“Good, right?” Caduceus says as he takes a sample for himself and sucks absently on the end of his spoon.

Caleb nods silently, muttering thanks to the man behind the register when he bags the bottle Caduceus has bought for himself.

“Do you know him as well?” he asks Caduceus when they finally turn to leave, the flush slowly fading from his cheeks. “That man.”

“Hm? Oh, no, never met him before,” Caduceus says blithely. “Nice guy, though.”

Caleb stares at him, mystified by how easily he seems to endear himself to everyone he meets. They make their way slowly through the rest of the market, Caleb stopping to buy them both fresh pretzels from a jovial young woman with a thick German accent who lights up when Caleb rattles off his order in his native tongue. She passes them to him with a wide grin and only charges them for one of them despite his protests.

“We should walk back,” Caleb says as they make for the exit. “It is a nice day out and it’s not too far.”

“Oh, yeah, we could walk through the park,” Caduceus says, sounding pleased at the prospect. “Have you ever been?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Caleb replies, “lead the way.”

Caduceus chuckles as they step outside, the clouds overhead breaking to allow weak sunshine to filter through and temper the cool weather.

“You know,” Caleb says as they walk, munching on their pretzels, “Americans ruined pretzels.”

“Oh?”

Caleb nods, brandishing his own pretzel. “This is a pretzel,” he says emphatically, “not those stupid little sticks you all eat. Those are not pretzels. They are abominations.”

“I didn’t realize you were so passionate about this,” Caduceus says, sounding amused and laughing when Caleb tears a bite from his pretzel and chews it angrily.

“I think they taste pretty good,” Caduceus says with a shrug, chortling when Caleb scowls at him.

Caleb realizes with a faint sense of shock and guilt how easy it is to slip subconsciously back into this light flirtation—is it flirting if he’s the only one doing it? Or is this just part of Caduceus’ default outgoing nature?—they’ve shared for so long. It’s making it even harder to work himself up to having the discussion he knows they need to have. He doesn’t want to stop being friends with Caduceus, knows they can continue to have a friendship and wouldn’t want to _not_ have one with him. But seeing him so frequently, going on what feels so much like a date _hurts_ when he imagines what they could have together.

Caduceus leads him to a large park that seems to be situated halfway between the market and campus. They chat absently about school and Caleb's parents and what he plans to do after graduating the following year as they walk down the meandering cobblestone path between flower beds just starting to show signs of life and trees still bare and brown from winter. Caduceus falls silent after they toss their trash into a nearby bin, his hands in his pockets and a contemplative look coming over him as they come to the edge of a wide, still pond spanned by a large stone bridge trussed with curving wrought iron rails between the decorative stone columns. There are several towering willows all along the banks, their long, drooping branches swaying lightly over the water in the cool breeze. Caleb can see a dock in the distance on the far side of the pond, empty now but no doubt soon to be filled with paddle boats when the weather turns fair.

They walk out onto the bridge, their footsteps loud on the stonework in the otherwise silent air. Caduceus pauses when they reach the middle and Caleb stops alongside him when he sets down the bag with Caleb’s flowers at his side.

"I like to come out here in the spring," Caduceus says, leaning against the railing and looking out across the water with a faint smile, that familiar pensive look on his face . "It's really amazing when the flowers really start to bloom."

"I can imagine." Caleb stands next to him, watching a fat little chickadee flit down onto one of the closest willow's branches and puff its feather out against the chill. "Perhaps once it is warmer we can have our study sessions here?" he suggests, nudging Caduceus and smiling up at him. His smile falters when he sees Caduceus frowning down at his hands, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

"Everything okay?" Caleb says. He lightly touches his hand to Caduceus' elbow, withdrawing it when Caduceus grimaces.

"I'm sorry," Caduceus says, shaking his head as if to clear it and turning to face Caleb. He doesn't meet Caleb's eyes, gaze fixed fretfully on his own feet. "I just, um... I haven't been entirely honest with you, Caleb."

"Oh?" Caleb's brow furrows. "How so?"

Caduceus exhales shakily, eyes finally lifting to meet Caleb's. His expression is fraught with guilt, brows drawn together and lips pressed in a nervous line. It throws Caleb, so used to seeing him calm and unruffled, off-balance.

"Last month," Caduceus begins, voice wavering slightly, "I told you that I didn't... feel anything for you besides friendship. And at the time it was true. Or, at least, I thought it was," he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Caleb feels his mouth go dry, his heart stuttering in his chest as Caduceus gives him a look so honest, so terrified he wants to reach out and take his trembling hands in his own. He doesn't though, keeping his hands firmly at his sides as Caduceus continues.

"I, um—here, can I—?" he reaches for Caleb's hand, taking it gently in his own and guiding it to press against his chest. Caleb can feel his heart thumping hummingbird fast under his fingers.

"I don't really—I'm not good at this," Caduceus continues quietly. There's a deepening blush across his cheeks. "I've never—no one has—" He laughs nervously, ducking his head and rubbing his palms together. "My hands are sweating."

"Caduceus," Caleb says gently. He feels like his heart is about to burst out his throat from how hard it’s beating with hopeful anticipation. He can feel his own hands shaking and he holds his breath as he waits for Caduceus to continue.

"I want to kiss you," Caduceus says in a rush, face flooding with color. "I know what you said and I understand if you don’t want to but, I, um, I really like you, more than as a friend and, um—can I kiss you, Caleb?"

Caleb’s breath whooshes out of his lungs in a near-silent, relieved laugh and he nods, smiling encouragingly. He watches Caduceus' throat bob nervously as he moves half a step closer. He reaches for Caleb's hand not resting on his chest, pausing and giving Caleb a look like he's asking for permission before taking it carefully in his own and lacing their fingers together. His other hand comes up to rest lightly under Caleb's chin, tilting his head up towards him, his thumb grazing delicately over Caleb's bottom lip.

His eyes flick over Caleb's face again as he ducks his head down, hesitating for a split second before his eyes close and his lips press to Caleb's tentatively. It's soft and uncertain, barely a brush of closed lips, and Caleb pushes up on his toes to kiss him more firmly, smiling when Caduceus makes a muffled sound of surprise.

There’s a sudden, dizzying rush of exhilaration flooding Caleb’s brain as it tries to process the sudden turn of events, digest the fact that Caduceus has feelings for him, that he’s _kissing_ him. He feels giddy with happiness, thinking he wouldn’t be surprised if he floated a few inches off the ground with how light his heart feels without that icy weight pulling it down. He forces himself to pull back after a few seconds, settling back flat on his feet and watching Caduceus' eyes flutter open, his expression as dazed as Caleb feels.

He blinks a few times, the tip of his tongue absently poking between his lips.

"Huh," he says, frowning in consideration.

"Something wrong?" Caleb says, squeezing his hand gently.

"No," Caduceus replies with a little shake of his head. He smiles crookedly, still looking overwhelmed. "I guess I'm just starting to see why everyone makes such a big deal over this." He lays his hand on top of Caleb's where it's pressed against his chest, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. He’s looking at Caleb with such open adoration it makes his head spin.

"Over what?" Caleb says with a chuckle. "Kissing?"

"Yeah," Caduceus says, expression softening with affection. "It's nice."

Caleb frowns in confusion, eyes widening as realization hits him.

"Oh," he says quietly, "Was that your first...?"

"Yeah," Caduceus replies, flushing and rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "Sorry if it wasn't—"

He lets out a small, startled noise when Caleb kisses him again, tightening his fingers in his coat and tugging him down to meet him. Caduceus stills for a moment, eyes wide, before relaxing against him, sighing against Caleb's lips and eyes sliding shut as Caleb's softens the kiss. He untangles his hand from Caduceus' so he can drape his arm around his shoulders, shifting closer so their chests are pressed together, Caleb's other hand still trapped between them over the steady thud of Caduceus' heart.

He moves his lips gently, testing the waters and guiding Caduceus, who mirrors his movement hesitantly, unsure. Caleb pulls back just enough to wet his lips, Caduceus' sighing quietly, before kissing him again, groaning softly at the smooth glide of their lips together. Caduceus' free hand comes to rest lightly on his waist, fingers curling in the fabric of his coat when Caleb tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss eagerly.

Caduceus breaks away with a quiet gasp after a few seconds, breathing a little heavily and flushed with color.

“Wow,” he breathes, letting out a small, shy laugh. He looks punch drunk. “That was—“

“Good,” Caleb finishes for him, “Really good. Better than good. Do you want to do that again?” He knows he sounds over-eager but his self-restraint is practically nonexistent now.

“Yeah, okay,” Caduceus says breathlessly, nodding and sounding just as eager.

Caleb yanks on the front of his coat to pull him down and kisses him, swallowing the quiet whine Caduceus releases. His hand moves hesitantly from Caleb’s waist to rest on the small of his back, broad and warm. Caleb tempers his enthusiasm, forcing himself to slow down when Caduceus can’t quite match the hungry way Caleb is kissing him.

Caduceus relaxes against him when he slows the kiss to something more tame again, trailing his hand encouragingly along Caduceus’ jaw. Caduceus’ kisses him back, tentative and clumsy with inexperience but still turning Caleb into a puddle of jelly he’s afraid might simply melt into the stonework. His knees feel weak, his stomach an explosion of butterflies, and he’s not sure if his heart is still functioning correctly with all the extra work it’s been doing over the past few minutes.

When Caduceus pulls away to take another breath, Caleb holds him close, smiling as he presses lingering, closed-mouth kisses to his lips. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Caduceus’.

“Was that okay?” Caduceus says, quiet and anxious.

Caleb kisses him again, brief and reassuring.

“I told you,” he murmurs, “you are a fast learner.”

Caduceus smiles bashfully. He pulls Caleb closer with his hand on his back and wraps his other arm around him in an all-encompassing hug, his cheek resting on top of Caleb’s head. He squeezes Caleb once and makes a satisfied sound, nuzzling Caleb’s hair with his cheek like a cat. He kisses the crown of Caleb’s head before pulling back and scattering quick, elated kisses over Caleb’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose. He scrunches his nose and rubs it against Caleb’s, face splitting into a wide, joyful smile when Caleb laughs brightly at the contact.

He takes Caleb’s face carefully in both hands and kisses him, chaste and gentle, like he’s something to be treasured, and it makes Caleb fall just a little bit harder for him. He rests his hands on top of Caduceus’, smiling up at him.

“I like you, Caleb Widogast,” he murmurs, gaze earnest and adoring.

Caleb laughs softly and tilts his face in Caduceus’ hand, drinking in the touch. “I like you too, Caduceus Clay.”

A sweeping look of relief comes over him at Caleb’s words and he pulls him into another tight hug, Caleb’s hair ruffling as he exhales. Caleb buries his face in his chest and smiles at the sound of his still rapid heartbeat.

“I was worried,” Caduceus says, voice muffled by Caleb’s hair as he presses his lips to his head. “I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if you wanted this.”

Caleb pulls back enough to look up at him. “I feel we were perhaps both a little thick headed,” he says. “I am surprised you did not realize my feelings for you. I thought I was being fairly obvious.”

Caduceus flushes and smiles sheepishly. He rubs the back of his neck, his other hand still splayed on Caleb’s back.

“I was sure you’d pick Molly over me,” he says, “he’s more experienced and I was so afraid to say anything.”

He trails off as the bubble of happiness in Caleb’s chest bursts, crashing around him like so much shattered glass, the smile sliding off his face.

“Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes as hot, roiling guilt claws up his chest. “Oh, _fuck_.”

He takes a step back from Caduceus, whose eyes have gone wide with sudden concern. He clutches at his chest, tears burning his eyes at the thought of Molly, of the cautious, tentative thing they’ve started and the trust Molly has instilled him with. Molly, who looks at him like he’s everything, who waited and changed for Caleb without hesitation. And here’s Caleb doing the equivalent of stomping on his heart when he’s not even around to protect it.

“Caleb?”

“I am a piece of shit,” Caleb groans, gripping his hair, fingernails digging sharp into his scalp. “I am a garbage person, what the _fuck_ is wrong with me?”

“Caleb, what’s wrong?” Caduceus lays a hand lightly on Caleb’s arm and Caleb shakes his head hard.

“Caduceus,” he says, voice cracking. “I am a horrible fucking person.”

“What do you mean?” Caduceus says, frowning. “You’re not a horrible person.”

“I am, though,” Caleb takes a deep breath and lets out a small, hysterical laugh. “I, um—Mollymauk and I are—we are sort of together… also.” His voice goes quiet at the end and he braces himself for Caduceus’ response.

He’s silent for a long time and Caleb can't even bring himself to look at him.

“Oh,” he says finally, Caleb looking up to see his brow furrowing with a combination of hurt and confusion, his ears drooping. “S-so you don’t want to…” He falls silent, watching Caleb closely.

“No, I _do_ ,” Caleb says emphatically. “So much, Caduceus, I—I care for both you very much and I know that sounds horrible and selfish but it is true. I’m sorry.”

Caduceus looks down at his hands for a long moment, mouth pressed in a thin line and expression meditative.

“Okay,” he says eventually, looking at Caleb and nodding. “Okay, if that’s… if you’re still figuring things out and this is what you want, then I’m okay with that.”

Caleb blinks in bewilderment. “Wh-what?”

“I want this, Caleb,” Caduceus says, taking Caleb’s hand in his own. “I really want this. I waited this long. I won’t lie, I’m a little… confused, but I’m also new to this so… we can make it work.” He smiles but his eyes don’t quite light up like they normally do.

“You are a saint,” Caleb squeezes his hand and steps closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus says with another smile, more genuine this time.

Caleb kisses him, feeling him tense against him momentarily before relaxing and returning the kiss with a pleased sigh.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with this?” Caleb says when they break apart.

Caduceus nods. “Yeah,” he repeats, “What is it they say about college being where you figure this stuff out?” He smiles, though it comes across more like a grimace, and Caleb feels another twist of guilt.

“ _Bärchen_ ,” he says gently, resting one hand on Caduceus’ jaw. “Talk to me.”

“Does he know?” Caduceus says quickly, not meeting Caleb’s eye.

“About this?” Caleb asks, gesturing between them. Caduceus nods. “Not exactly. I will talk to him about it, I promise. He may not be so open to this idea but...” There’s a rush of apprehensive fear at the thought.

“Caduceus, I had given up that you felt anything for me.” He feels like he needs to try and explain himself, even if it sounds weak even to him. “That is not to say I would not still want something with Mollymauk, but I did not know…”

“I should have said something sooner,” Caduceus says, more to himself than to Caleb.

“Caduceus,” Caleb turns his jaw gently so he’s looking at him again. “I am so sorry for putting you in this position. And I fully understand if you are not comfortable with it. I need to know what you are feeling.”

He watches Caduceus’ throat bob as he swallows, his eyes flicking back and forth between Caleb’s.

“I want this,” he says at last, jaw set resolutely. “That’s what I feel. I want to be with you and that’s all that matters. I mean it,” he adds when Caleb looks at him doubtfully.

He lightly touches the tulips where they’re still tucked at his collar, a little crushed now but still poking from his scarf.

“It was never really my thing, but Agnes is really into symbolism with flowers,” he begins a little absently. “Yellow tulips used to be stand for hopelessness but now they’re more about sunshine and happiness, that sort of thing.”

“I think I prefer the new meaning better,” Caleb says, Caduceus chuckling softly. “What about the red one?”

Caduceus hesitates, eyes still fixed on the flowers. “She gave it to you, didn’t she?” He hums pensively when Caleb nods. “You should look it up.”

Caleb furrows his brow, smiling at the cryptic response.

“I will,” he promises, making a mental note to do so later.

Caduceus smiles, cupping his jaw and kissing him with a kind of soft desperation that makes his heart skip.

“We should get going,” he says when he pulls away, glancing over Caleb’s shoulder at an approaching pair of joggers.

“Good idea,” Caleb says, following his gaze, “We don’t want security called on us for hogging all this good kissing space.”

Caduceus laughs at this, warm and sincere, and Caleb feels the knot of guilt in his stomach lessen slightly. He knows it will still be there until Monday when he talks to Molly, he refuses to ruin his trip with this or have this conversation over the phone, possibly near prying ears.

Caduceus scoops up the bag with Caleb’s violets and pauses to hold out his hand hopefully towards Caleb, who accepts it readily, interlacing their fingers and rocking up on his toes to kiss him on the cheek.

He feels a bit like a teenager as they walk back towards his apartment together, taking their time strolling through the park and exchanging shy smiles when the conversation falls into a comfortable lull. It’s early afternoon by the time they return to Caleb’s apartment, hovering at the door.

Caleb wants to invite him in, but he knows Nott is probably there and he wants to save the conversation he knows they’re going to have for when they’re alone. So, instead, he indulges himself with a few long minutes of kissing Caduceus there on the sidewalk, one hand still tangled in his and the other resting just above his heart. Caduceus matches his movements more confidently now, though he keeps the kiss languid, almost lazy in the way his lips slide against Caleb’s. It makes him ache for more in the best possible way.

He forces himself to break away when he feels that need turn hungry, not wanting to unintentionally make Caduceus uncomfortable by forcing his hand into something he’s not ready for. This, all of it apparently, is new to him, and Caleb wants to make sure he’s letting him lead this where he wants it to go rather than the other way around.

Caduceus has that same dazed sort of look in his eyes when Caleb pulls back with a final kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I should probably head in,” Caleb says reluctantly. “Nott and I are seeing a movie later.”

“Alright,” Caduceus replies with a nod. “Oh, um, here.” He passes the bag with Caleb’s flowers to him. “I’ll send you some information later. It likes indirect sun so maybe near a window but not right by it.”

“I think I have the perfect spot.” He hesitates before raising onto his toes and kissing Caduceus one final time, brief and chaste.

“Okay, well, I better get going,” Caduceus mumbles, looking pleased and adorably bashful. “See you later.”

“Bye,” Caleb says softly, giving his hand a final squeeze before releasing it as he turns to walk away. He glances back at Caleb at the corner, waving meekly before disappearing behind the edge of the building.

Caleb stares at the spot for a few seconds before heading inside, pulling out his keys to unlock the door when the handle doesn’t turn. The apartment is empty and dark when he walks inside, apart from Frumpkin, who trundles out from the hall, meowing happily at the sight of him.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmurs, bending down to scoop him up and settle him on his shoulders. He pulls out his phone to send a message to Nott, who responds that she’s at the laundromat and will be back in an hour. He frowns in frustration at not inviting Caduceus in now knowing they would have been alone, but thinks it for the best to take things slow to ensure Caduceus’ comfort with the relationship.

He settles in the couch, scratching Frumpkin’s chin where he’s still perched on his shoulder. He remembers what Caduceus had said about the flowers and absently begins flipping through a website about flower symbolism, flushing scarlet when he reads the meaning of red tulips.

_Perfect love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments on the last chapter! I'm finished chapter 20 and almost done 21, I'm soooo close to being finished with this baby. Next chapter things are about to get very nsfw.
> 
> Caduceus' playlist is updated: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-iyuOCQ79c97vcmUvgD5uOaptUbxtQew1RJh9276Uw0/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CANT BELIEVE I forgot to link to this art https://froggyfemme.tumblr.com/post/184557661942/thinkin-about-caleb-pls-click-for-higher and I also have this one now https://froggyfemme.tumblr.com/post/184722112627/frank-n-furter-molly-again-inspired-by which is particularly appropriate for this chapter :) 
> 
> Molly's Playlist updated for this chapter: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-iyuOCQ79c97vcmUvgD5uOaptUbxtQew1RJh9276Uw0/edit?usp=sharing

_Love._

Love is not a word he has considered apart from his conversation with Molly that feels like it took place months ago even though it was really only a few weeks. It’s barely been two months since he met the two of them, it’s far too soon to consider the word. Attraction? Yes. Infatuation? Absolutely. But _love_? Love is one of those dangerous words he has never tended to dwell on before. But what was it Molly had told him when Caleb had asked if he’d ever been in love?

_Maybe._

Was Molly in love with him? Was _Caduceus_ in love with him? Or was he merely being cagey about the flower because he knew Agnes had misread the situation and assumed wrong? He’s still speculating wildly when his phone vibrates from where’s it’s still loosely grasped in his hand and he jumps in his seat, fumbling with it and looking down at the screen.

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Caleeeeeeb_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|）_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|・）_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|ω・）_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|・ω・）_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|(・ω・）_

Caleb frowns at the inexplicable emoticons, unsure why exactly she’s texting him in the first place. He’s still perturbed at her for trying to interfere despite the eventual outcome of it all. He’s not really sure she did either of them any favors with her meddling.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Yes, Jester?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _CALEB!!_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _(*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _You’re welcome_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _it has barely been an hour, Jester, how do you know what happened?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _besides, if anything, this happened in spite of you, not because of you_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _( ب_ب )_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _I have my ways of finding things out. And we’ll just see what Caduceus says about that._

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Please don’t_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _IT’S ABOUT TIME_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _did you guys…………you know (≖‿≖)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I do not see how that’s any of your business_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _that’s not a no, Caleb (ಠωಠ)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _NO. Satisfied?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _and I am only saying this to save Caduceus from this interrogation_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _pfft like I didn’t spend the last ten minutes doing that already_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Jester knows all סּ_סּ_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _if you know all why do you need to ask me these questions?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _(ᇂ_ᇂ)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _goodbye, Jester_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|ᇂ_ᇂ)_

 ** _Jester Lavorre:_** _|_ __ᇂ)_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|ᇂ)_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|)_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _|_

Caleb frowns down at his phone for a moment before pulling up his messages with Caduceus.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _did you tell Jester?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I’m sorry! She’s really good at getting information out of people. Are you mad at me? :(_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _not mad, Bärchen_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I am sorry she questioned you_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _that word, it means bear?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _sort of_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _technically it means little bear if you are translating it literally_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _but it is like when people use honey or muffin but are not talking about these things_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _so like a term of endearment?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _yes_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _does this make you uncomfortable?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _no, I like it :)_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _should I have one for you?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I suppose that is up to you_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _hm, I will have to think of one :)_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _sorry again about Jester :(_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _no need to be sorry, I am sure she would have found out anyway_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _:)_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I’m going to work on your plant tips! I’ll send them to you soon :)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I look forward to it_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _now I can be the tutor :)_

Caleb chuckles. He glances up at the rustle of paper and realizes Frumpkin is poking his head into the bag containing Caleb’s flower. He stops him gently and carries the bag out to the kitchen, carefully taking the pot out and setting it on the end of the counter closest to the window.

He stands back to admire it, enjoying the bright bit of color in the otherwise dully decorated room with its white walls and countertops. He pulls a glass from the cupboard to fill with water to stick the tulips in and sets it next to the violets then snaps a picture to send to Caduceus, who responds with an excited, “ _looks great_!” as Caleb hears the front door opening from the living room. He pokes his head out into the hall as Nott is stepping into it hefting an overflowing laundry hamper that’s almost as tall as she is.

“I’ve got it,” Caleb says, hurrying to take the basket from her.

“Thanks,” she says, huffing a little in exertion.

“You’re sure you do not want me to take over laundry duty again?” Caleb asks as he leads the way down the hall to Nott’s room.

“And have another red sweater incident?” she replies with a snort. “No, thank you.”

“That was one time,” Caleb groans as he sets the basket on her bed, the sheets rumpled in a pile in the middle.

“One time and half my socks are now pink,” she deadpans.

Caleb rolls his eyes fondly but sits on the edge of the bed and begins helping her fold the mountain of clothes.

“So, did you talk to Caduceus?” she says after a minute or two of silent folding.

Caleb stills and ducks his head guiltily, feeling oddly like he would when his mother would catch him sneaking sweets.

“Caleb,” she says suspiciously, halting her own folding, one of Caleb’s socks clutched in her hand.

“It’s a funny story,” Caleb laughs nervously, recoiling at her narrowed eyes and the way she’s brandishing the sock like a club.

“Well, you know how I thought he did not have feelings for me?” Nott nods slowly, lips pursed. “Apparently he does.”

“Oh?” she says, still sounding suspicious but with an edge of surprised interest. “Why do I have a feeling you’re not telling me everything?”

Caleb coughs, feeling his face warm with embarrassment.

“We might have… possibly... kissed,” he nearly mouths the last word rather than says it with how quiet his voice goes.

“You _WHAT_?!” Nott shouts, eyes practically bugging out of her head as Caleb flinches away. “You _kissed him_?!”

“It maybe, could have been more than once,” Caleb mutters. “It might have happened a lot.”

Nott gawks at him. She makes a few choked noises like she’s trying to speak but can’t manage to get any actual words out. She seems to give up and shakes her head, closes her eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath before returning her focus to Caleb.

“What,” she begins, “the fuck? When did this happen? _How_ did this happen? Does that mean you’re dating him? What about Molly?!”

“It just happened,” Caleb says, holding his hands up in a helpless shrug. “We were walking in this park and he said he wanted to kiss me and I…” He feels a fond smile creeping up and forces his mouth into a flat line again, “I wanted him to so… we did.”

Nott gives him a sharp, penetrating look and he withers in his seat under it.

“You’re making it very hard not to meddle again,” she says eventually, still scowling as she turns back to the laundry and resumes folding it roughly.

“And what about Molly?”

Another stab of guilt twists in Caleb’s gut.

“I… I am going to talk to him when he gets back,” he says carefully. “We already have plans to meet Monday.”

Nott hums thoughtfully.

“So does that mean you’re breaking up with him?” she says, eyeing him with an almost judgmental air.

“No!” Caleb cries emphatically. “No, I’m not going to do that, I told you, I want to… to be with him.”

“Well then I’m confused,” Nott says, laying down the sock she’s been searching for a match for. “So, you want to date Molly. But you’re kissing Caduceus. Are you just going to… date them both?”

“That was the plan,” Caleb replies meekly.

“And… they’re both okay with this?” Her tone is doubtful, perplexed.

“Caduceus is, we discussed it after… Well, he knows and he said he’s willing to try it.” Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his eyes tiredly. He can feel a headache threatening to creep up the back of his neck. “And I am going to talk to Mollymauk on Monday. I’m not interrupting his trip for this, I want to talk to him face to face about it.”

Nott makes a soft, pensive sound.

“Just… be careful, Caleb,” she says at last, “I don’t want you to get hurt, but I don’t want anyone else to get hurt either. And this seems like a situation with a lot of possibilities for someone to get hurt.”

“I understand,” Caleb says quietly. “And I will be. I don’t want anyone to get hurt either.”

Nott gives him another speculative look. It seems like she wants to question him further and he’s grateful when she doesn’t and steers the conversation instead towards picking a movie for them to see that evening.

She is mercifully silent on the subject for the rest of the night and Caleb savors the time spent with her that has become much rarer over the past few months with how busy they both have been. They see a horror movie at Nott’s behest, then wander to a grimy diner near the theater where they eat greasy burgers and Nott steals his fries every time he looks away and he pretends not to notice despite the fact that he’d wised up to her sticky fingers a long time ago. It’s easy and normal in the best possible way.

They’re walking back home, full and tired as their conversation meanders from Caleb’s midterms to some joke Jester had told Nott to their respective plans for the upcoming spring break—Caleb is set to take the bus home as he always does for the week to see his parents while Nott grumbles about her full work schedule—when Caleb’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket. He pulls it out, seeing Nott absently checking her own phone out of the corner of his eye, and clicks open the message on the screen.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I miss you, darling <3 _

There’s a picture attached showing the city skyline across the river, lit up and glittering in the distance, what Caleb thinks is the Brooklyn Bridge visible in the right side of the shot. Molly isn’t in the picture but Caleb can see his shadow cast across the pavement, legs folded under him and hands raised to take the picture.

A painful mix of shame and adoration bubbles up inside him and he closes his eyes briefly to quell it, to stop himself from calling Molly and telling him everything now, rip off the bandaid and hope he doesn’t hate Caleb for it. He settles for sending him a response instead, not a lie but still making him squirm with guilt all the same.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I miss you too, Schatz_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I can’t wait to see you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I know it’s sappy but I really can’t stop thinking about you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _is that weird?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I have been thinking about you too so I hope not_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _oh really?_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _what have you been thinking about?_

_About how I’m worried you’re going to end this when you realize how selfish I am. About how maybe I’m just dragging out telling you because I’m afraid I won’t have you anymore once I do. And the thought of that happening makes me feel sick._

**_Caleb:_ ** _just that I want to see you_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _nothing……else? ;-Y_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _perhaps I am saving that for when you get back_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _!!!!!!!!!_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _:0_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _oh, darling, I am going to make you regret being such a tease_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _ugh Gustav says I have to get off my phone or he’s throwing it in the river and I don’t doubt he’d do it so I gotta go_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _but I’m still going to be thinking about you_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _have a good night, Mollymauk_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _good night, darling xoxo_

Caleb stares down at his screen for a few seconds, smiling at the little _xoxo_.

“I don’t know which one you’re talking to,” Nott says, pulling Caleb’s attention to her. She’s smiling warmly up at him though Caleb can still pick out the lines of apprehension in her expression. “But you must really like him going off the look on your face.”

Heat prickles up Caleb’s neck and he shoves his phone in his pocket, slouching into the collar of his coat to hide his flush.

Sunday seems to pass at a torturous crawl. Caleb spends the day getting in some last minute studying for his midterms, checking his phone every now and then when it vibrates with a message from Molly as he keeps him updated on their progress back to Boston. He laughs when Molly sends him a picture of Yasha holding one the flashcards Caleb had made him with the caption “ _being good and forcing Yasha to help me study”._

When he wakes up Monday, it’s with the itch of anticipation in his blood, which makes it even more difficult for him to focus on the two midterms he has that day. He manages to get through them both, though, foot tapping restlessly under his desk the entire day and eyes automatically peeled for the sight of purple skin as he traverses the halls between classes.

He doesn’t see Molly, though, and his phone is oddly silent throughout the day—though he supposes Molly is probably focused on his own midterms and tries not to take it as a bad sign. After forcing himself to eat something in the cafeteria despite the fact that his stomach feels like it’s full of snakes with how nervous he is, he makes his way across campus to the hall that contains the theatre just before six o’clock.

There are a few people milling about the entrance hall as he pushes the door open, smiling stiffly when they turn their heads curiously in his direction. He grips the strap of his bag a little tighter and ducks his head, striding down the hall towards the auditorium, the sound of discordant voices and music filtering out through the open double doors at the end of the hall.

“Alright, set for _Sweet Transvestite_ , and can someone _please_ find Molly?”

Caleb pauses inside the doorway, looking down the sloping aisle to the curved stage on the far end of the room. There are students moving across it as a woman with blonde hair tied in a tight bun watches them from where she’s seated a few rows back from the center of the stage, lips pursed impatiently.

“He’s still ‘getting ready’, he said,” a girl calls from the stage, sounding annoyed.

The woman buries her head in her hand and mutters something Caleb can’t hear. He takes a few steps down the aisle into the room, lingering back in the shadows.

“I keep telling him he can’t do this every time we do this scene,” she says, raising her voice as Caleb continues his careful descent into the room, eventually taking a seat near the center of the rows where he can see the stage clearly.

A few of the other students grumble in response.

“Molly!” she shouts, cupping her hands to her mouth. “If you don’t get out here in two minutes, I’m—“

“I’m here!”

The curtains at the back of the stage flutter as Molly pokes his head through the opening, grinning and ignoring the few annoyed mumbles that come from some of the other students. He has dark makeup around his eyes and across his eyelids, his lips painted bright red and matching his eyes. His eyes flick across the room to land on Caleb, face lighting up at the sight of him. Caleb waves discreetly and Molly winks at him and mimes a kiss.

“You know, you don’t need to get into costume every time you do this scene,” the girl who’d spoken before pipes up, arms folded across her chest. “No one else is in costume yet, they’re not even finished.”

“ _Some of us_ like to get into character, Janet,” Molly snips back at her haughtily. “Besides, this isn’t my costume, I already owned this.”

“Enough,” the woman who seems to be the director snaps when the girl opens her mouth to argue with a disgusted look. “Molly, last warning. Everyone else, go to your marks. Remember, curtains are the elevator until props are done. Let’s start from from ‘Say something’ okay, Chelsea?” The girl Molly has referred to as Janet nods as Molly flashes Caleb a grin before ducking back between the curtains again.

Caleb settles back and watches as the girl and another boy wearing large glasses begin acting out a scene, moving across the stage as they talk, stumbling a little on their words at times. There’s the quiet build of music in the background after a few lines, the two of them backing towards the curtain where Molly had disappeared. Molly slips through the curtain and the girl screams and feigns fainting as he steps between them, grinning lecherously.

He’s singing now and Caleb blinks in surprise at the rough quality of his voice, pitched a few notes lower than usual, smokey and appealing and stirring up the heat in Caleb’s core like a poker to hot coals. Even more odd is his outfit. He’s dressed in what looks to be a long, black cape wrapped around his front and falling down to his shins, his feet strapped in heels so tall Caleb is a little worried he’s about to break his ankle when he struts between the two other students across the stage.

He’s… good, better than good, alluring in the way he moves with such confidence, and Caleb can see why he flourishes here. He’s a born performer. Caleb can’t help but smile as he watches him, fond warmth spreading across his chest. Molly walks across the stage to where a single cushioned chair is situated, sweeping his cape around him before pulling it off completely and tossing it aside.

The smile slides off Caleb’s face, jaw going slack and something hot and hungry clawing up his spine at the sight of Molly’s outfit beneath the cape. He’s not even sure if it constitutes as clothes, all skimpy lace and silk that leaves _so much bare skin_. He’s dressed in a blood-red corset that laces up his stomach and chest, matching briefs low on his hips and clipped with garters that hold up his thin stockings, fingerless gloves pulled up to his elbows.

Caleb can barely hear what Molly is singing, his brain fuzzy as blood drains south. He crosses his legs, wetting his lips as he drinks in every inch of visible smooth skin, eyes dragging across the impossibly long lines of Molly’s legs, the curve of his calves, the tempting strip of skin visible between the waistband of his briefs and the hem of the corset where the angles of his hips are visible.

Molly sits sideways in the chair, legs lifting into the air as he looks in his direction and winks and Caleb swears weakly under his breath, pushing his heel down into his crotch when he feels himself starting to harden. Molly knew exactly what he was doing inviting him here, and Caleb thinks he’d feel more duped if he didn’t have an urgent need to drag Molly off the stage and pull him to the nearest dark room as soon as possible.

He’s a little thrown when the song ends, Molly disappearing back between the curtains as the music shuts off.

“See, now, if you could just do that and _show up on time_ , you’d be perfect!” the director calls after Molly, who pokes his head back through the curtain and grins cheekily. “Alright, let’s reset and run it a few more times then I want to work on _Damn It, Janet_ , you’re still missing your lines, Seth.” The boy playing opposite ‘Janet’ grimaces but nods and Caleb watches as they move back to their positions where they’d started the scene before.

Molly appears at the curtain again.

“Are we doing any of my other scenes after this?” he asks, looking to the director.

“Probably not, we’re still working on the first half tonight, why?” she says suspiciously.

“Because I have plans,” Molly replies loftily. “With my boyfriend.”

Caleb’s stomach flips happily at the word and he tries and fails to suppress a smile.

“Dammit, Molly,” the director mutters under her breath. “Yes, okay, fine, _after_ we run it twice more you can go.” There’s a sudden low murmurs of annoyance from some of the other students and she folds her arms across her chest sternly. “When you all get your lines and hit your marks every run like him, I’ll consider letting you go early, too. But until then, shut up.”

Molly pokes his tongue out at them childishly before withdrawing behind the curtain again.

Caleb watches with increasing impatience as they run through the scene a second and third time, chewing at the inside of his cheek and trying not to squirm in his seat at the way Molly is gyrating his hips and running his hands over himself in a way that’s practically pornographic.

Molly bows with a flourish to no one in particular when the song ends the final time and Caleb resists the urge to clap.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Molly says airily. He pauses and looks across the room towards Caleb. “I’ll be there in a minute, darling, just need to get changed.”

Caleb shrinks in his seat when every eye in the room turns curiously towards him. He nods silently to Molly, watching him turn on his toes and disappear through the curtains again with a clack of heels. Caleb waits a few seconds for the attention to move off of him before sidling out of his seat and walking quickly back towards the exit.

He leans against the wall in the hallway to wait for Molly, straightening up when he appears at the end of the hall after a few minutes, jogging up to him and smiling.

“Hey,” Molly says a little breathlessly, stopping a few feet from him. He’s dressed simply in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, the lipstick gone but some of the makeup still around his eyes, and Caleb tries not to feel disappointed—though he makes a mental note to ask Molly about what he’d meant when he’d said he’d already owned his costume.

“Hey,” Caleb replies. It’s almost strange seeing him now after everything that’s happened over the past few days, how much he’s been looking forward to seeing him and every spoken and unspoken promise they’ve been making to each other.

“So, I am your boyfriend?” he says, that same irresistible urge to smile turning up the corners of his lips.

Molly clears his throat, looking suddenly abashed but pleased all the same.

“Well, aren’t you?” he says quietly.

“I hope so,” Caleb says with a nod, watching Molly duck his head and smile, rocking on the balls of his feet happily.

“You were… incredible, by the way,” Caleb continues, “Your performance I mean.”

Molly beams at him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Caleb says earnestly. “You’re very good at… that.”

Molly laughs brightly, still smiling broadly as he goes quiet again, eyes fixed on Caleb with open adoration. His smile fades slightly and his eyes flick up and down the hall.

“Fjord has practice until nine tonight,” he says, glancing at his phone. “That’s not for two hours.” He pauses, eyes dropping briefly to Caleb’s lips. “Do you want to come back to my dorm for a bit?”

There’s nothing subtle in the question and an anticipative shiver runs across Caleb’s nerves, goosebumps raising on his skin with the expectation of touch.

“Sure,” he says, nodding. It’s agonizing being this close to him without being _close_ to him, knowing Molly wants exactly what he does, that tension that’s been ever-present between them lately hanging heavy and undeniable, even more so with Molly putting a definitive label to it.

Molly takes Caleb’s hand in his own, interlocking their fingers, and it’s like touching a live wire to his palm.

“C’mon,” Molly mutters, tugging him towards the exit. He presses close to Caleb’s side so he can murmur in his ear, “I _need_ to kiss you but if I start now I’m not going to stop so we should get somewhere we don’t have to.”

He squeezes Caleb’s hand and Caleb’s fingers tightens instinctively in response. They walk quickly down the darkened path that winds its way through campus, Caleb keeping his eyes on the sidewalk for fear that looking at Molly with break his resolve. He needs to be alone with Molly, needs to talk to him, then to at last give into the desires he’s been denying himself, his heart, his body, been denying _Molly_ for so long.

When they finally reach Molly’s dorm, Molly holds the door open for him and Caleb enters silently, taking a few steps towards the bed and turning as Molly is shutting the door behind him and locking it with a click that seems unnaturally loud.

He turns to Caleb, still ten feet away. The space between them feels thick with the unresolved tension that’s been building for almost a week, the air in the room immediately overly warm and stuffy in Caleb’s lungs. Molly takes two steps towards him and stops short, throat moving as he swallows.

“Caleb,” he murmurs, voice strained and eyes flicking to Caleb’s lips, “can I—“  
  
“Yes,” Caleb says before he can finish, every plan he’s been going over in his head vanishing at finally being alone with Molly. The word has barely left his mouth before Molly is clearing the space between them and kissing him, hands gripping the sides of his face as he crushes their lips together with a soft, desperate whine.  
  
Caleb’s heart leaps in his chest and his eyes fall shut, hands coming to rest on Molly’s waist and curling tightly in the fabric of his shirt as Molly’s hands slides back to tangle in his hair and keep him close.  
  
He runs his hands greedily down Molly’s waist, over his hips, slipping them up the front of his shirt and across his stomach, groaning at finally, _finally_ having Molly’s skin under his hands. It feels like the rush of water breaking through a dam, an instant catch of flame to dry kindling, the urgent, frantic need to have Molly pressed against him, to run his fingers over every inch of his skin. There’s an underlying current of something deeper beneath that want to touch but his brain is foggy with the feeling of Molly’s lips against his own, his skin beneath his fingertips, and it feels like it’s burning him up from the inside in the best possible way.  
  
He hates himself a little for it but he can’t help but think how it is nothing like kissing Caduceus. There is no gentle hesitance, no tentative longing. Molly kisses like he’s starving for him, deep and intense, coaxing his mouth open and groaning as his tongue brushes against Caleb’s. He nips lightly at Caleb’s bottom lip and tilts his head to the side to slot their mouths closer together, making a low, needy sound in his throat that goes straight to Caleb’s cock.  
  
Molly gasps out a quiet, shaky, “ _fuck_ ,” against his lips, and the sound triggers something hungry and carnal to rear up in Caleb’s brain.  
  
Molly breaks the kiss just long enough to push Caleb down to sit on the edge of the mattress, the colorful silks fluttering as they’re forced apart and Molly huffing out a laugh when Caleb chases his lips. He eyes Caleb hungrily and climbs onto the bed, straddling Caleb’s lap and tangling one hand in his hair as he kisses him again, fierce and open-mouthed.  
  
Caleb forces himself to pull back, panting and laying one hand on Molly’s chest when he whines and tries to kiss him again.  
  
“Wait,” Caleb says. He feels light-headed with arousal, his cock already half-hard, but he needs to talk to Molly, to tell him what happened before the continue. “Before we do this— _ah—_ I need to talk to you, I just want to make sure that you know—Caduceus and I—“  
  
“I don’t care,” Molly breathes, tilting Caleb’s head back to mouth wetly at his throat, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. His breath is suddenly hot in Caleb’s ear, voice low and broken. “I don’t fucking _care_ , Caleb, I just want you _now_. Fuck, I want you so badly.” His voice is wrecked and broken and he rolls his hips, whimpering when his own hardening cock rubs against Caleb’s.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Caleb groans at the sensation, head dropping to Molly’s shoulder.  
  
Molly tugs on his hair, forcing his head back so he can kiss him again, clumsy and hurried like he’s afraid Caleb will stop him again. But Caleb kisses him back greedily, wrapping his arms around Molly’s waist and tugging him closer to rock their hips together.  
  
Molly tilts his head back and moans quietly, eyes fluttering shut as he exhales a shaky, “ _Fuck, Caleb_.”  
  
“What do you want?” Caleb murmurs, lips finding Molly’s neck and moving down the column of his throat to his collarbone.  
  
“Anything,” Molly groans, voice tight with want. He presses his forehead against Caleb, meeting his eyes. “ _Everything_.”  
  
"C'mere," Caleb mutters, surging up to kiss him again. His hands slid lower to grip Molly's ass, forcing him closer and grinding his hips up roughly.  
  
Molly moans brokenly, head falling back and fingernails digging into Caleb's shoulders. Caleb latches onto the side of his neck, sucking and biting the tender skin, Molly keening high in his throat as he does. Caleb pulls back to watch bruises bloom wine-red across Molly's lavender skin, pressing his thumb lightly into one and grinning when Molly whimpers and shivers against him.  
  
He pushes up on the hem of Molly's shirt, waiting for Molly to lift his arms so he can pull it over his head and toss it aside. He wants to litter Molly's skin with bruises, leave marks on him that won't fade for days, know that he’ll be walking around with evidence of what they’re doing, of Caleb, staining his skin beneath his clothes. Molly kisses him hard before he can do so, though, threading his fingers in his hair and pushing their lips together so hard their teeth click painfully.  
  
"I want you in my mouth," Molly breathes against his lips. " _Now_."  
  
Caleb groans at the thought, nodding enthusiastically. Molly presses a final kiss to his lips before pulling back and sliding onto the floor between Caleb's legs. His hair is mussed, face flush with heat. He grins up at Caleb, pressing the palm of his hand against the hard line of Caleb's cock through his jeans. Caleb gasps quietly at the touch, hands finding Molly's shoulders and gripping them hard.  
  
Molly forces his legs wider apart so he can get closer to him, sliding his hands up Caleb's thighs as he lowers his head to mouth wetly at the tip of his cock.  
  
Caleb swears softly, head falling forward and eyes sliding shut as pleasure courses up his spine. He can feel himself leaking precome through his boxers, his cock painfully hard under Molly's touch. It’s been so long since he’s had someone else touch him like this, he’s afraid it will be over embarrassingly fast at this rate.  
  
"Let's take these off, shall we?" Molly says, sounding smug as he unbuttons Caleb's pants. He tugs down the zipper, pausing for Caleb to stand so he can kick off his shoes and socks and yank the fabric down his legs. He smirks at the spreading damp spot on Caleb's boxers, ghosting his fingers over the head of his cock.  
  
"Eager boy," he purrs. He licks a line over the shape of Caleb's cock with his forked tongue before tugging his boxers down as well, pushing Caleb hard back onto the edge of the bed as soon as he's kicked them off. He settles back between Caleb's legs, nuzzling his cheek against his inner thigh and looking up at Caleb, eyes hooded and intent.  
  
"I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."  
  
He doesn't give Caleb a chance to react to this before sinking his lips down around him. Caleb chokes out a groan as he's enveloped by the wet, velvety heat of Molly's mouth. Caleb chokes out a string of mingled curses that even he’s not sure what language they’re in and has to force himself not to thrust forward into that inviting warmth.  
  
Molly moans around him, sucking hard and taking Caleb so deep he can feel his cock hit the back of his throat, Molly's nose bumping against his groin. He hums low and swallows around him, looking up at Caleb and smirking as he does, his lips stretched taut as he tongues at the underside of his cock. The tight pressure around the head of his cock almost makes his eyes cross, hands fluttering in midair for a moment before landing on Molly's horns, wrapping tightly around the base.  
  
Molly pulls off him with a lewd pop and a shuddering groan, eyes rolling back as his whole body shudders at the touch. Caleb stares at him in surprise before pressing his thumbs experimentally into the thin skin where Molly's horns disappear, feeling a rush of heat when Molly shivers, eyes fluttering shut.  
  
"Not fair," Molly whines weakly, mouth falling open in a dry sob of pleasure when Caleb digs his fingertips into the spot. He's panting when Caleb slides his fingers back into his hair instead, combing through it soothingly.  
  
"Interesting," Caleb mutters, grinning at Molly's disheveled, disoriented appearance.  
  
Molly licks his lips as he seems to gathers himself, looking taken off-guard but darkly determined and Caleb feels a thrill of anticipation run through him. Molly takes him in his mouth again, sucking and bobbing his head eagerly, like he's retaliating against Caleb for what just happened. Not that Caleb's complaining. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, gaze fixed on Molly’s lips stretched wide around his cock, cheeks hollowing out each time he sinks down around him. Caleb slides his fingers absently through Molly’s hair, biting back a groan at how obscene Molly looks, face flushed and eyes hooded, spit dribbling down his chin and dark makeup smudged around his eyes.  
  
Caleb twitches his hips forward experimentally as Molly slides his lips down around him, groaning and tugging on Caleb’s hips encouragingly. Caleb winds his fingers in Molly’s hair and thrusts forward harder, eyes rolling back as his cock hits the back of Molly’s throat again and it contracts around him as Molly swallows. Molly whines brokenly, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as Caleb pulls at his hair and fucks his throat with quick, sharp rolls of his hips.  
  
Caleb feels his orgasm building, closing his eyes and focusing on the wet slide of Molly's lips and mouth and tongue on him. He tugs weakly at Molly's hair when he feels himself getting close, whimpering when Molly shakes his head and looks up at him through dark eyes with that same determined look, pressing down on Caleb’s thighs to hold him in place as he takes control again, sucking hard and moaning around him.  
  
Caleb whimpers and pulls at Molly's hair as his orgasm hits him. Molly finally slips off so the tip of Caleb’s cock is resting against his lower lip, mouth falling open wide, expectant. Caleb groans as he watches come spurt into Molly's waiting open mouth and pool across his tongue, dripping over his lips and chin, stark against his dark skin. His lips are swollen and wet, head tilted back and jaw slack like something out of a wet dream. No, the real Molly is so much better than Caleb’s imagination could come up with, warm and present and fucking _stunning_. He grips the base of his cock, biting his lip to stifle a groan as he rubs the over-sensitive head along Molly’s lower lip.  
  
Molly grins and takes Caleb's cock in one hand, laving his tongue over the head to gather the last few drops of come at the tip. He wipes his chin on the back of his hand and licks his lips, tongue dragging along his knuckles to clean the smears of come. He swallows pointedly, eyes fixed on Caleb, who swears weakly.  
  
Molly pushes himself to his feet and shimmies out of his pants and briefs, pushing Caleb back onto the mattress to lay flat.  
  
"Lift your shirt up," he mutters, breathing heavily as he crawls onto the bed and straddles Caleb's thighs. His voice is rough and hoarse from the abuse to his throat.  
  
Caleb obeys a little dizzily, tugging the hem of his shirt up to bunch under his armpits as Molly's weight settles warm and heavy on top of him. Molly spits inelegantly on his palm and wraps his fingers around his leaking cock, groaning as he pumps his fist with quick, jerky movements. He gazes down at Caleb, eyes hooded and brow furrowed in concentration, lower lip tucked between his teeth. Caleb runs his hands up Molly's thighs, thumbs digging encouragingly into the juncture where his legs meet his groin.  
  
" _Mm,_ fuck," Molly mumbles. He comes almost soundlessly a second later, exhaling shakily as his eyes roll back and come splatters across Caleb's stomach. His spine arches, head falling back and exposing the long line of his throat, mottled dark where Caleb's lips and teeth have left their mark. Molly groans softly and his chin drops to his chest, shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. He grins dazedly up at Caleb, still panting lightly and looking as punch-drunk as Caleb feels.  
  
"Holy shit," he says, laughing incredulously.  
  
"Yeah," Caleb breathes. He feels light-headed, boneless.  
  
"Ugh, hang on," Molly says, pulling a face at the mess on Caleb's stomach. He climbs off of him and hangs over the side of the bed, rooting around through his discarded clothes and making a triumphant noise as he holds up a sock.  
  
He swipes it across Caleb's abdomen a few times before turning it inside out and tossing it back onto the floor. He rolls onto his stomach, practically on top of Caleb in the tiny twin bed, propping himself up on one hand and gazing down at Caleb with a lazy, content smile, his face half hidden in colored shadow from the silks surrounding the bed.  
  
"How was that?" he says, his other hand tracing lines over Caleb's chest with his fingernails. His voice is still low and rough, lips swollen plump, and Caleb can’t stop himself from surging forward and kissing him, quick and closed-mouthed. Molly lets out a content sound against his lips, smiling as Caleb pulls back again.  
  
"You have a very talented mouth," Caleb responds, grinning when Molly laughs, bright and pleased.  
  
"Mm," Molly hums, still smiling faintly, shifting closer to him so their faces are only a few inches apart. "You have no idea, darling." He slides his hand up Caleb's chest and kisses him, slow and languid. Caleb can taste himself on his tongue.  
  
He feels the tip of Molly's tail brush against his ankle, slowly slipping up his calf and along the inside of his thigh. It grazes over Caleb's softening cock and he winces, making a quiet sound of protest even as he feels himself trying to get hard again.  
  
"You're incorrigible," he mumbles, smiling as he says it.  
  
Molly laughs quietly in his throat, grinning against his lips. "You're just irresistible," he purrs. He lays his head on Caleb’s chest and lets out a pleased hum when Caleb cards his fingers through his tousled hair.  
  
“Molly?”  
  
Molly turns his head to look up at him, looking surprised.  
  
“That’s the first time you called me Molly and not Mollymauk,” he says, smiling affectionately. “I like it.” He pushes Caleb’s hair back off his face. “I like _you_  I really missed you, Caleb.”

Caleb’s stomach squirms with a mix of guilt and happiness and he wishes he’d have stopped long enough to have the conversation he knows they need to have, somehow it feels like he’s breaking some sort of etiquette bringing up kissing someone else while they’re still in this postcoital haze.

“I missed you, too,” he says seriously. He takes a steadying breath, taking Molly’s hand in his own from where it’s lying on his chest. He can’t put this off any longer. He’s a little surprised he hasn’t heard it already with the way Jester runs her mouth. “Molly, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” Molly says with a laugh that trails off as he takes in Caleb’s solemn expression. “What’s up?”

“While you were gone,” Caleb begins, forcing himself to look Molly in the eye even though it makes him burn with shame. “I, ah—Caduceus kissed me, no, I kissed him. We kissed.”

Molly’s expression is unreadable, blank, and Caleb’s not sure if he’s processing what he just said or about to hit him. He doesn’t think he’d blame him if he did.

“What?” Molly says at last, sounding genuinely confused, almost laughing around the word.

“I wanted to tell you before,” Caleb says hastily, keeping a firm grip on Molly’s hand out of fear he’s going to wrench it away from him. “But I wanted to talk to you face to face about it. And I wanted to talk before… this but… I’m sorry…” he trails off meekly, watching Molly’s forehead crease in a faint frown, his eyes dropping from Caleb’s face to their hands.

“That’s what you meant,” he says quietly, eyes going distant. “When you said…”

“Yes. I’m so sorry…”

Molly chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before looking back up at him, eyes flitting anxiously over Caleb’s face. “So… does that mean you want him? Instead of me?”

“No, Molly, _no_ ,” Caleb says earnestly, squeezing his hand tighter. “Do you think I would do _that_ right before breaking up you?”

“I mean you are just telling me this now,” Molly mumbles. There’s no bite behind his words, his voice small and uneasy, but it still stings, even though Caleb knows he’s right.

“I know,” Caleb says apologetically. “I know, Molly, I should have stopped so we could talk about this.”

“I guess I’m also to blame,” Molly says with a disquieted sigh. “I don’t think anything you could have told me would have made me want to stop.” There’s a muted heat behind his words that’s reflected in his face and Caleb reaches up to shape his hand around his jaw, relieved when Molly tilts his head into the touch.

“So what does this mean?” Molly asks carefully. “What do want, Caleb?”

“I will tell you what I told him,” Caleb says, “I care about both of you, I want to try to be _with_ both of you and I know that is selfish and so much to ask of you but it is the truth. And if you do not want to do this anymore, I would never blame you for it.”

“And what did he say?” Molly says, though there’s something in his voice that makes Caleb thinks he already knows the answer.

“He said that he willing to try it,” Caleb replies, watching him closely for his reaction.

“And what if I said no?” Molly says, voice carefully light, “Would you stay with him or with me?”

Caleb opens his mouth wordlessly. He can’t respond because he doesn’t know what his response would be. His whole thought process behind this flimsy plan of his has hinged on the fact that he _doesn’t know_ what the answer to that question is.

“Don’t answer that,” Molly says hastily when Caleb hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. He pulls away from Caleb and sits up on the edge of the mattress, sighing and rubbing one hand along his jaw, his other hand still held in Caleb’s.

Caleb wants to touch him, hold him, reassure him in some way how much he wants this, wants him. But he doesn’t want to make him feel rushed, so he merely rubs his thumb over the ridges of Molly’s knuckles and watches him think with bated breath.

“Alright,” he says at last, looking at Caleb over his shoulder and nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Caleb says hopefully.

Molly nods again and Caleb breathes a sharp sigh of relief. He kisses Molly’s hand hard, closing his eyes and pressing his lips firmly over his knuckles, his wrist, up his forearm. He coaxes Molly down again with a tug on his arm so he can wrap his arms around him in a tight hug, Molly laughing quietly as he does, the sound trailing into a contented hum when Caleb kisses his temple and cups the back of his head.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. He turns his head so he can rest his forehead against Molly’s. He’s still naked, half sprawled across Caleb, their legs tangled together, the comforting sensation of warm, bare skin against his own. “Are you _sure_? Do you want to talk about it more? I want you to be comfortable.”

Molly shakes his head. “I want you, Caleb,” he says. “I just want you.”

Caleb hugs him around the middle again and kisses his forehead. “You have me,” he breathes, “I missed you. How was your trip? How did your exam go?”

“Mm, good,” Molly mumbles, tucking his head under Caleb’s chin and smiling against his neck. “Both were good. I kept getting distracted thinking about tonight, though.”

Caleb smiles, carding his fingers absently through Molly’s hair and dropping another kiss to his forehead. Molly lifts his head from his chest and props his chin on one fist, smirking proudly.

“Did I blow your mind?” he says coyly, trailing his fingertips over Caleb’s chest. “Among other things.”

“Like I said,” Caleb murmurs, lifting his head from the pillow to kiss him. “You have a very talented mouth.”

“I’ve got lots of other talents I haven’t even shown you.” Molly slides his fingertips down his stomach, kissing him lazily.

“Do any of them involve the outfit you were wearing earlier?”

Molly chuckles low in his throat. “Oh, darling, they can if you want them to.”

He grins and sits up to swing his leg over Caleb’s and straddle his waist when there’s the unmistakable jingle of keys on the other side of the door and they both freeze, eyes wide.

 _Fjord_ , Molly mouths. He holds a finger to his lips, scrambling off Caleb to his feet and yanking the curtains closed around the bed just as the door clicks open and swings inward.

“Jesus fucking _christ,_ Molly!” Fjord shouts exasperatedly, the door slamming shut behind him. Caleb can just make out their shadows through the silk and sees him quickly clap a hand over his eyes.

“You’re back early,” Molly says conversationally, leaning against the desk, tail flicking lazily as he makes no attempt to cover himself.

“Yeah, coach wanted to give us time to study for midterms,” Fjord says, now looking up at the ceiling and holding one hand up to block Molly from his view. “I thought we agreed no more walking around naked?”

“Yes, well… circumstances…” Molly trails off, the faintest hint of a smirk in his voice.

“Circumsta—Molly is there _someone else in here?_ ” Fjord’s voice is practically a hiss now and Caleb sees him point at Molly’s obscured bed.

“No, I just like to keep an extra set of clothes that aren’t mine lying around in case of emergencies,” Molly says sardonically, cocking his hip to one side and folding his arms across his chest.

Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs as Fjord splutters incoherently.

“Molly,” he whispers, “who the hell—wait—“ he pauses, raising his voice slightly, “—Caleb?”

Caleb presses his fingers to his mouth, silently praying for the earth to open and swallow him whole.

“Not very versed in subtlety, are you?” Molly mutters.

“Shut up,” Fjord says, pointing a stern finger at him before turning back to the bed. “Caleb?”

Caleb sighs, resigning himself to not being mercifully struck by lightning, and says, “yes, _hallo_ , Fjord.”

“ _Motherfucking_ —alright,” Fjord says, holding up his arms like he’s surrendering. “I’m leaving for five minutes and when come back, I better not see a single dick.”

“You’re the best!” Molly calls after him cheerfully as he opens the door and steps back into the hall again. The door swings shut behind him and Molly barks out a laugh, pushing the curtains open and giving Caleb an apologetic look.

“Sorry about that, darling,” he says, bending down to scoop up Caleb’s discarded clothes and pass them to him.

“I may actually die from embarrassment,” Caleb says seriously, unmoving and staring up at the canopy of silk above him.

Molly snorts in the process of digging through his dresser for a clean pair of briefs.

“It’s just Fjord,” he says with a shrug as he slips them up his legs. “He’s seen worse. Trust me, he’s seen _way worse_ ”

He pulls on a T-shirt as Caleb finally moves to tug on his own boxers and jeans.

“Oh, hey, I know it’s kind of short notice but I wanted to ask you.” Molly leans back against his dresser as Caleb is tugging on his socks.

“Hm?”

“So Beau’s parents own this beach house in Maryland and a couple of us were going to drive down for spring break. They’re not around so Beau said we can crash there for a few days.”

Caleb pauses in the process of sliding on his shoes to look up at him curiously.

“Jester is going out of town with her mom,” Molly continues, looking faintly anxious, “and Fjord is going back to Dallas so it would just be the three of us and Yasha, but I wanted to see if you wanted to come. It wouldn’t be the whole week,” he adds hastily, “probably just three or four days. We’d drive down Saturday morning.”

Caleb considers the invitation for a moment before pushing himself to his feet and striding the few feet between them to rest his hands on Molly’s waist and kiss him, quick and chaste.

“That would be fun,” he murmurs, “I’ll just let my parents know I’m not coming home until summer this year, they’ll understand.”

Molly’s smile is blinding.

“You have no idea how glad I am that you said yes,” he says, expression turning more grave, “I don’t think I could stand that long dealing with Beau’s disastrous attempts at flirting alone.” He grins when Caleb laughs, biting his lip before tugging Caleb closer by his belt loops and kissing him again, unhurried and open-mouthed.

The door clicks open again and Caleb hears Fjord make a vaguely annoyed sound, though he shuts the door and moves to his bed regardless.

“Hey,” Molly says as Caleb pulls away and takes a hurried step back, Molly’s fingers still hooked on his pants. “You said no dicks and I abided by that request.”

Fjord rolls his eyes and Molly sticks his forked tongue out at his back before turning back to Caleb.

“I should get going,” Caleb mutters, still prickling with embarrassment. “Give you time to study.”

“Darling, do you think I’m going to be able to think about studying tonight?” Molly leans forward to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Fjord clears his throat loudly and Molly pulls back with a scowl.

“I’ll see you Wednesday,” Caleb mumbles, hitching his bag onto his shoulder and moving to the door, Molly trailing after him.

“I’ll text you later.” Molly stops him in the doorway and gives a final, lingering kiss, fingers sliding along Caleb’s jaw.

Caleb starts when Molly’s other hand slips into his back pocket and squeezes his ass firmly.

“I’ll see you Wednesday,” Molly says, winking as he steps back and leans against the doorway.

“Yeah,” Caleb says, resisting the desire to kiss him again. “See you.”

Molly wriggles his fingers in a wave and blows him a kiss before slipping back inside and shutting the door. Caleb wrings his hands around the strap of his bag, staring at the closed door for a few seconds before turning and heading down the hall, biting back a smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for all the wonderful comments as always, I've been neglecting writing this to write porn but I'm getting back to it so I can finally get this baby finished.
> 
> Have a fabulous week!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cad's playlist updated for this chapter https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-iyuOCQ79c97vcmUvgD5uOaptUbxtQew1RJh9276Uw0/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> CW drug use this chapter (weed again)

Caduceus, Caleb learns, is a tactile person. Though he supposes he should have expected it from all the little touches that had left Caleb so flustered and longing from before they were together, he’s realizing now just how much Caduceus seems to seek out touch. It’s not even sexual—at least, it’s not intended to be, Caleb can’t help how his body reacts—but it’s still incredibly distracting when he’s trying to explain stoichiometry while Caduceus is sitting behind him with his arms around his middle, nuzzling the back of his ear.

“Caduceus,” he says, forcing his voice to something calm when he’s starting to seriously suffer from the way Caduceus’ hands are laying flat and broad against his stomach.

“Mm?”

“This is very distracting.”

Caduceus’ nose disappears from where it’s been pressed at the hinge of his jaw, arms loosening around his waist, and Caleb sags in relief.

“Oh, sorry,” Caduceus mumbles, smiling sheepishly. “I just like holding you. And you smell really good.”

“You are the first person to ever say that to me,” Caleb says, frowning at the compliment, not expecting it.

“Really?” Caduceus sounds almost befuddled as he says it, “but it’s true. You smell all… warm and nice.” He hugs Caleb around the middle again, burying his face in the side of his neck with a pleased sigh.

Caleb shivers and bites back a whine at the touch.

“You are being very sweet,” he says, his voice wavering. “But I’m being paid right now to teach you and I do not think you are getting your money’s worth.”

Caduceus sighs a little dejectedly but withdraws his arms from Caleb’s waist and moves to sit across from him on the bed rather than behind him. They’ve abandoned the pretense of Caleb sitting in the desk chair and he would regret it if the proximity to Caduceus didn’t make his heart flip so pleasantly.

“Can I still hold your hand?” Caduceus says when he settles back down, legs folded under him and one hand held out hopefully.

Caleb smiles fondly and takes his hand in his own. “I suppose that would be doable,” he says.

Caduceus pulls their joined hands into his lap, fingers absently rubbing over the back of Caleb’s knuckles as he focuses his attention on what Caleb is attempting to teach him. They still don’t make much progress, but Caleb had mostly intended for the night to be review with midterms finishing up that week and spring break the following, so he’s content with what they do manage to cover.

“Do you want to stay for a little bit?” Caduceus inquires as Caleb is packing his things into his bag. “We could watch a movie or something.”

“I’ve got another midterm tomorrow,” Caleb says regretfully, feeling a pang of guilt when Caduceus’ ears droop sadly. “But I could stay for a little bit,” he adds quickly.

Caduceus perks up immediately, ears lifting like an emotional barometer, and Caleb lets his bag drop back onto the floor before sitting on the edge of the bed. Caduceus settles next to him, fiddling with the hem of his shirt restlessly.

“Can I, um…?” He touches his fingers hesitantly to the back of Caleb’s hand where it’s sitting on the bed between them.

“You don’t have to ask to touch me, Caduceus,” Caleb turns his hand over to tangle their fingers together as he says it. He flushes with embarrassment when he releases an undignified squawk of surprise as Caduceus wraps his arm around his waist and embraces him, cheek pressed against the top of his head. Caduceus sighs happily and Caleb lets himself relax against his chest, savoring the contact.

“Do you want to lay down?” Caleb says when they’ve been in the same position for a solid two minutes. He’s a little confused about the fact that Caduceus has barely stopped touching him since he arrived but still hasn’t made a single attempt to kiss him. Because Caleb wants him to kiss him, has been wanting to kiss him from the second he stepped in the door. But he’s still trying to let Caduceus dictate the course of things given how new he is to all of it.

Caduceus nods and pulls his arms from Caleb’s middle so he can lie down against the pillows, Caduceus struggling a little to arrange his long limbs as he lies next to him, their faces only a few inches apart in the cramped space.

"Oh, um, so you know how you said I can think up a name for you if I want?" Caduceus says excitedly, continuing when Caleb nods, "I thought of some so just tell me which one you like best and I can use it."

"Alright," Caleb says, laughing softly. "What are they?"

"Honey, honeybee, sweetheart—but my mom calls me that so it might be weird," he wrinkles his nose up thoughtfully before continuing, ticking off on his hand as he goes, "sweetie, sweet pea, sunshine, or buttercup. What do you think?"

Caleb can feel the tips of his ears reddening as he lists them off, clearing his throat as Caduceus gives him a hopeful, expectant look.

"O-oh, well, that is a lot to pick from," he says.

"Yeah, I looked at some lists online and those are the ones that made me think of you," Caduceus says happily. His ears droop as he takes in Caleb's expression. "Don't you like them?"

"No, no, I  _do_ ," Caleb assures him, "I just was not expecting quite so many."

"I wanted to give you some options," Caduceus says shyly, still looking unsure.

"You are very sweet," Caleb says. He mulls them over in his head for a moment before saying, "How about sunshine? Although that may be a better name for you than me."

Caduceus' face splits into a wide, sunny grin and Caleb's chest aches a little at how infatuated with him he is.

"Sunshine it is," Caduceus says cheerfully. He sighs happily and settles his hand on Caleb’s hip, his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin where his sweater has rucked up a few inches. Caleb looks down at his lips, shifts closer, tries to exude the desire to be kissed, but Caduceus merely smiles adoringly at him, his other hand lifting from where it’s resting on the pillow between them to brush the back of his knuckles over Caleb’s cheekbone.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Caleb says when he can’t take it anymore.

“Can I?” Caduceus says, expression brightening.

“I would like you to, yes,” Caleb replies. “We are not studying now, you can do anything you want to me.”

Caduceus’ eyes widen slightly, his cheeks dusting with color.

“Maybe just kissing,” he says nervously. “For now?”

“That’s fine with me,” Caleb murmurs, eyes sliding shut when Caduceus kisses him at long last.

It’s the same slow, careful sort of kissing that Caleb is beginning to get used to when kissing him, languid and little timid. Caleb is still thrown off by the fact that he’s the first person Caduceus has done this—done  _anything_ —with. He’s not exactly wildly experienced himself, only having had a few brief flings outside of his relationship with Astrid in high school, but it still makes him uneasy that he may accidentally push Caduceus in any way for fear it will make him feel rushed. Besides, he has no problem with spending twenty minutes lazily making out on Caduceus’ bed until their lips are swollen, even if it leaves him with his jeans a little too tight by the time they’re done.

He’s not really paying attention to the time, though, just enjoying the soft glide of Caduceus’ lips against his own, the occasional brush of his tongue that makes him groan quietly. When Caduceus’ hand slides up the back of his sweater, his fingers tracing over the bumps of his spine, Caleb hooks his ankle loosely behind Caduceus’ calf and lifts his hand to stroke gently over his ear, marveling again at how soft the short hair—fur?—along the back is. He runs his fingers over the spot again, absently rubbing the thin skin at the tip of his ear between his thumb and forefinger.

Caduceus breaks away with a small huff of laughter.

“Tickles,” he murmurs in response to Caleb’s curious look.

Caleb brushes the backs of his fingernails experimentally along the thin, pale skin of his ear, watching in fascination as his ear twitches and Caduceus’ face scrunches in a laugh.

“They’re very soft,” Caleb says, going back to absently petting his fingers through the downy soft fur. It reminds him of the silky fur on Frumpkin’s chest, or of when he was small and his class had owned a fluffy white rabbit.

Caduceus’ eyes slide shut and he leans his head into Caleb’s hand.

“You’re going to put me to sleep,” he mumbles drowsily, cracking one eye open to look at Caleb as he says it.

“Sorry,” Caleb lies, smiling as he continues sliding his hand over the spot. He stops when Caduceus’ catches his wrist and lowers his hand to his mouth so he can kiss his fingers.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he says, voice still groggy and eyelids drooping. “I want to spend time with you.” He rubs his thumb over Caleb’s palm. “I’m going to miss you next week.”

“You are going home for break?”

“Mm, Clara and I are leaving Saturday to drive up together, she’s taking a few days to do family stuff before the wedding.” He yawns, blinking sleepily before his eyes suddenly widen and he sits up.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asks, sitting up next to him and laying a hand on his arm.

“I just realized she’s going to ask about you again.” He groans and buries his face in his hands at the prospect. “She’s going to spend six hours interrogating me about it.”

“You do not have to tell her we are together if it bothers you,” Caleb says, rubbing a hand reassuringly up his back.

Caduceus lowers his hands and gives him a distressed look.

“Even if I wanted to lie to her, I couldn’t,” he says, grimacing. “She’s like Jester, she can get information out of people. I also really hate lying,” he adds with a sigh. He smiles shyly. “I wouldn’t want to lie about you, though. I’m just not looking forward to being stuck in a car with her while she asks about it.” His expression goes distant, eyes wide. “She’s going to tell everyone when we get there.” He sighs and shrugs defeatedly. “Whatever… are you going anywhere?”

Caleb half considers not telling him, but he quashes the thought as soon as it crosses his mind, feeling disgusted with himself.

“I, um, I’ll be going with some people… with Molly to Beau’s parents’ house in Maryland,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.

Caduceus hums, nodding. “That sounds like fun,” he says. He smiles at Caleb but it’s not quite as bright as it normally is. “Can I still… can we still talk while you’re there?”

“Of course,” Caleb assures him.

Caduceus’ ears twitch back almost imperceptibly.

“So, I guess he’s okay with it too, then?” he says, not looking at Caleb.

“He is,” Caleb replies quietly.

Caduceus is silent for a moment before he turns to Caleb with a broad smile and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“That’s great,” he murmurs.

“Caduceus—“

“Did you still want to watch a movie?” Caduceus says, bending over the side of the bed to fish out his laptop. “There’s this new nature documentary I was hoping to watch if you’d be into that.”

Caleb wants to make him talk about it, knows he _should,_ but Caduceus is already setting up his laptop on his legs, slipping one arm around Caleb’s middle and kissing his ear, so he remains silent, curling against Caduceus’ side. They end up actually watching most of the documentary, Caduceus occasionally making an offhand comment but otherwise seemingly absorbed in what they’re watching. It’s impossibly endearing, and Caleb finds himself watching Caduceus more than the documentary, his rapt expression and the soft, thoughtful sounds he makes when something interests him. It reminds Caleb of why he’d become so horribly smitten with him in the first place.

“If you’re not busy Friday, maybe we can do something?” Caduceus says hopefully when Caleb is finally pulling on his shoes and coat close to ten o’clock. “Before we leave?”

“Sure,” Caleb replies, smiling as he stands on his toes to kiss him at the door, Caduceus lowering his head slightly to meet him. “Let me know what you want to do.”

“Okay,” Caduceus says, looking bashful and pleased. It’s a far cry from when he’d been so unintentionally sexual with Caleb before they’d gotten together. Defining their relationship seems to have turned him tremendously shy about it all, but Caleb wants to pull that confidence out of him again, wants him to understand Caleb will gladly accept anything he wants to give him without pushing him.

“Actually,” he says, pausing with his hand on the door as an idea strikes him. “You know what I would like to do?”

“Hm?”

“Smoke with you again.” Caleb watches his eyes widen in surprise.

“Really?” Caduceus looks equal parts confused and pleased at the suggestion. “Why?”

“I really liked it last time,” Caleb says with a shrug. There’s no need to mention how much he’d enjoyed straddling Caduceus’ lap, trading breath with him. The high had been secondary to the one he’d gotten just from being so close to him, sharing something so intimate as the air in their lungs.

“Yeah, alright,” Caduceus says, grinning crookedly. “I could probably use it anyway before spending the day with Clara,” he adds with a frown.

“It’s a date, then,” Caleb says.

Caduceus lights up, ears twitching up minutely.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, “it’s a date.” He ducks his head bashfully. "Good night, sunshine."

Caleb can’t stop himself from stealing one more kiss before he leaves.

* * *

Much to Caleb—and Molly’s—chagrin, Fjord remains in his and Molly’s room all Wednesday evening during their tutoring session, despite Molly shooting him withering scowls over the top of his notebook every few minutes and, at one point, loudly proclaiming that Caleb ought to spank him with his history textbook when he gives him an incorrect answer. Caleb thinks this is more to get a rise out of Fjord than anything, though it does little more than make his own face glow red with embarrassment, Fjord merely rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on his headphones as he types away on his laptop.

“I told you,” he says loudly, not looking up from his screen. “The library closes at 7 and I’m not going back and forth to study again so you can get laid.”

“Don’t worry,” Molly mutters when Caleb is packing his things reluctantly. “We’ll have plenty of time to ourselves during break. I made Beau swear we could have the best bedroom.” He smirks, tweaking Caleb’s collar. “I’ve never been fucked in a beach house before. Should be fun.”

Caleb still can’t help but be a little flustered by Molly’s newly returned openly sexual flirtation, especially when it’s so frequently juxtaposed to those looks of softened adulation that Molly wears when he thinks Caleb isn’t looking. Though right now Caleb is less concerned about this and more intent on the implication of what Molly plans for them to get up to while they’re together over break.

Apart from their initial hookup on Monday, they’ve not had a chance to do more than exchange heavily flirtatious texts and, now, share a few chaste kisses under Fjord’s critical eye. Logically, Caleb had known—and, yes, hoped, he’s still ridiculously attracted to Molly and he’s not going to pretend otherwise especially now—that their relationship would progress quickly, but he hasn’t done _that,_ hasn’t been on either end of actual sex, in a long time, and he suddenly feels anxious at the prospect of having to live up to whatever expectations Molly may have for his sexual prowess.

It also raises the question of whether or not he should be packing certain… accouterments that they might need for the week. Was Molly planning on buying them? Or should it be Caleb’s responsibility if he’s—based on Molly’s implication—going to be the one needing them?

This thought carries his brain tangentially to Caduceus and the possibility of eventually reaching this level of intimacy with him. Should he be prepared for this just in case? Somehow, as much as he adores him, he can’t picture Caduceus going to the drug store and buying himself condoms when he still blushes when Caleb kisses him.

He lies in bed debating himself for almost an hour on the whole ordeal—having eventually left Molly’s after sharing a short but passionate goodbye kiss in the doorway of Molly’s dorm—before finally falling asleep. It’s this that leads him to walking into the drug store a few blocks from campus Thursday evening, the collar of his coat turned up and a beanie pulled onto his head in spite of the mild night.

The store is mercifully empty save two other people and the cashier, who eyes him with a bored look as he enters, and he glances nervously over his shoulder as he hurries to the wall in the back corner of the store lined with boxes of condoms and bottles of lubricant. He hastily grabs a box of what he knows will work for him—he thinks it will likely work for Molly as well if needed, they seemed close enough in size—and a bottle of lube before staring helplessly at the boxes he thinks might work for Caduceus.

He looks quickly around to make sure he’s still alone in the aisle before picking up one of the boxes and examining it doubtfully. While he’s not exactly gotten a long look at Caduceus when he’d accidentally seen him naked, he can still vividly picture what he’d looked like and he’s not sure any of the sizes listed would even be close to what Caleb imagines would work. He wonders a little desperately if there are ones specially made for firbolgs or if Caduceus is unique in his endowment.  

He’s still not even sure if Caduceus _wants_ this sort of relationship with him, but the thought of being opened up and filled by him makes his head swim and heat bristle at his collar and he refuses to not be prepared for it just in case.

He dithers for almost five minutes before finally snatching the box that he thinks might work, tucking everything against his chest and bowing his head as he makes his way to the front. He stills when he realizes there’s no self-checkout, considering for a wild moment putting everything back or just dropping it and leaving the store before he dies of embarrassment, but the cashier has caught his eye and is watching him expectantly.

Sighing and feeling hysterically like he’s walking to the gallows, he goes to the counter and drops everything onto it, refusing to meet the cashier’s eye.

“Is this everything?” he says in a near monotone as he rings in the first box.

“Yes,” Caleb mutters, eyes fixed on the counter and face burning so hot he’s surprised he hasn’t caught fire.

The cashier pauses as he lifts up the box of condoms he’d picked for Caduceus, lifting an eyebrow and glancing up at him as he rings them through. Caleb forces an awkward, tight-lipped smile, fumbling with his wallet to pass a few bills across the counter.

“Have a nice evening,” the cashier says, the faintest edge of curious amusement to his voice as he passes Caleb the plastic bag and his receipt.

Caleb grumbles a thanks and hurries towards the exit, head bowed low and bag clutched in his hand. He’s not paying attention, so focused on getting out of the store and possibly striding straight into traffic, that he runs headlong into someone else as they’re walking through the automatic doors. He stumbles back, stammering out an apology.

“No worries, friend, are you—oh, hey, Caleb.”

Caleb’s eyes widen in horror as Fjord bends down to pick up the bag he’d dropped.

“You on an end of midterms snack run, too?” Fjord says with a chuckle, “Coach doesn’t really like when we eat junk, but I figure—“ he falls silent as he absently glances into Caleb’s bag in the process of handing it back to him, his expression going rapidly from an easy smile to almost resigned exasperation to one of wide-eyed alarm, color draining from then flooding his face in quick succession.

“Yes, thank you, Fjord, have a nice evening,” Caleb snatches the bag from him, ignoring the look of mingled disbelief and morbid curiosity Fjord is giving him and slipping around him and out the door.

He pauses when he’s half a block away to bury his burning face in his hands and groan in embarrassment. He’s still vaguely considering stepping in front of a bus to end his humiliation when his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, welcoming the distraction.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _red or black?_

There’s a picture attached of Molly’s bedspread, the red corset he’d been wearing at his rehearsal laid across it alongside a similarly scant black one. Caleb stares at the picture for a few seconds, trying to digest the question.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _What is this for?_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _which one do I bring with me, darling? I told you, we’re going to have fun this week ;-Y_

Caleb’s brain immediately whirs into overdrive and he has to stifle a groan at the thought of Molly in either of them.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _black_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _black it is_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _what are you up to?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _contemplating dying of shame_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _??_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I just ran into Fjord at the drugstore_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _ew is he buying those gross chips again I told him they stink up the room_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I don’t know_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I was buying… stuff for our trip_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _stuff?_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _OH! “Stuff”_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _oh, darling_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _yeah_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _LOL_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _it is not funny_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _you’re right, it’s hilarious_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I am mortified_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _you’re adorable_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _sorry you had to go through that, darling_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _though I do appreciate you thinking I wouldn’t already be fully prepared for all the things I’m going to do to you this weekend_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I feel so innocent_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I wanted to be sure_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _adorable_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _but please don’t die of shame, I’d miss you terribly <3 _

**_Caleb:_ ** _I will try_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I’m going to finish packing, I’m spending tomorrow night at Beau’s. Are we still picking you up at 7 Saturday?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _that is what I told Beauregard, yes_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _k see you then, darling xoxo_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _good night, Schatz_

As soon as Caleb gets back to the apartment, he shoves one box under the books in his nightstand, stuffing the rest of the bag into the bottom of his half full duffel bag sitting open on the floor at the foot of his bed.

* * *

With his midterms finished and no tutoring with Beau that day, he allows himself to sleep in Friday morning, waking to the hum of his phone buzzing on the nightstand well passed mid-morning. He sits up groggily, Frumpkin chirping as he’s shifted from his position on Caleb’s chest, and yawns as he picks up his phone and blearily looks at the screen.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _what time are you coming over? I’ve got things ready :)_

Caleb perks up at the reminder of the plans they’d made for today, leaning back into his pillows and scratching at Frumpkin’s ears before typing out a reply.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _maybe an hour or two? Is there anything I should bring?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _not unless you have any particular snacks you think you’ll want, some people get very snacky when they smoke :)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _not you, though?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _not so much now_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _it used to be gummy bears which was really hard when I was vegan_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _very fitting, Bärchen_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _oh, yeah! Haha :)_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _let me know when you’re headed up_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _will do, see you soon_

He sets his phone aside and scrubs his hands down his face to rub away the sleep. He feeds Frumpkin his breakfast and showers before tugging on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and heading out into the warm spring air. He stops at the drugstore to buy a bag of gummy bears before making his way towards campus, savoring the warm sun that’s making its first true appearance since winter had settled over the city so many months before.

The flowerbeds on campus are a riot of color now that the snow and frigid cold seems to have stopped for good at last, clumps of bright yellow daffodils and fragrant hyacinths poking up from faded mulch where the ground crews have yet to refresh and weed the soil, green shoots creeping valiantly up between the cracks in the sidewalks.

He texts Caduceus as he’s entering the building, receiving a smiley face in response as he’s climbing the stairs. The door swings inward shortly after he knocks, Caduceus flashing him a broad grin as he stands back to let him in, chuckling when Caleb holds up the bag of gummy bears.

“Just give me a second,” he says as Caleb toes off his shoes and takes a seat on the bed. “Need to set a few things up.”

Caleb watches with mild interest as he lines towels along the crack at the bottom of the door before opening the window a few inches, peering outside as he tugs the curtain shut, dimming the sunlight streaming through the window to a soft glow turned pale green by the fabric of the drape.

“Precautionary measures,” Caduceus explains with a shrug. He sinks onto the mattress next to Caleb, picking up the lighter and neatly rolled joint that are sitting innocently on his nightstand on a small tray.

“Want me to go first?” he says, giving Caleb a questioning look as he holds the joint up loosely between his long fingers with a kind of casual finesse that makes Caleb fidget with anticipation.

“Can we do what we did last time?” he says, praying he doesn’t sound as eager as he actually is, blood already thrumming with the prospect.

Caduceus arches an eyebrow in surprise. “You want to shotgun again?” he says, lowering his hands slightly.

“Yeah,” Caleb nods. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Caduceus says, still looking a little confused but shrugging all the same. He scoots back onto the bed so he can lean against the wall with the pillows propped behind his back, crooking his fingers and patting his thigh to beckon Caleb forward. “C’mere.”

He looks so relaxed, so comfortably enticing that Caleb obeys automatically, his limbs feeling oddly clumsy as he climbs onto the bed and settles himself in his lap like he had the last time they’d done this, careful not to let himself sit flush against his hips to leave a few inches between them. Caduceus tilts his head up towards him with a lazy grin and brushes his hair back with his free hand, cupping the back of his head and kissing him shyly.

“I’ll go first, yeah?” he murmurs, lifting the joint to his lips when Caleb nods silently.

He tucks it between his lips, cupping his hand around the end as his thumb flicks the wheel of the lighter, eyes fixed on the little orange flame that hisses to life and catches the tip of twisted paper, a little curl of smoke rising from it and hitting Caleb’s nose sharp and acrid before it fades slowly into that familiar skunky sweet smell as the dull glow of flame flares and creeps upward when Caduceus inhales. It’s mesmerizing watching the leisurely movement of his hands as he sets the lighter aside and grips the joint between his thumb and forefinger, filling his lungs gradually with smoke before lowering his hand and pressing his lips together tightly.

He grips Caleb’s chin lightly in one hand, easing him forward as he cranes his neck up towards him. Caleb gives easily, everything feeling oddly dreamlike despite the fact he hasn’t taken a hit yet. He lets his mouth fall open and press against Caduceus’, even the dry contact of their lips making goosebumps erupt across his skin. Warm smoke fans across his tongue and he inhales, careful this time to breathe in slowly, let the smoke flood his lungs pleasant and heavy.

It’s familiar but so starkly different from the last time they’d done this, no more unsure pretense of what it could be, of whether there’s anything between them or not, the air around them quiet and still and thick with something like possibility. The curtains rustle faintly in the breeze that finds its way through the open window and Caleb shivers as the cool air hits his heated skin.

He holds the smoke in his chest but doesn’t pull away from Caduceus, keeping his lips pressed unmoving against his own until he finally exhales and blinks hazily down at him. There’s a faint flush of pink on Caduceus’ cheeks as Caleb pulls back only to rest their foreheads together briefly before sitting back on Caduceus’ thighs.

He takes Caduceus’ wrist in his grip, lifting his hand up to his mouth. Caduceus seems to catch on and guides the joint to his mouth, watching with a faintly amazed look, eyes wide and lips parted, as Caleb wraps his lips around the joint, his lips pressing against Caduceus’ fingers as he does, and inhales deeply, warm smoke curling down his throat and filling his chest.

Caduceus wets his lips, air rushing out of his lungs shakily as Caleb tucks his fingers under his chin, presses his thumb to his bottom lip and pulls down lightly on the plush skin to tempt his mouth open before tipping his head to the side and slotting their lips together again. He pours smoke into Caduceus’ mouth and Caduceus drinks it in eagerly, stealing the breath from his lungs as his fingers curl in Caleb’s shirt.

Caleb’s brain feels mellow and fuzzy as the drugs start to hit his system, the air dense and warm with smoke and their shared body heat even with the open window. He makes to pull away when Caduceus chases his lips with a soft whine, his fingers brushing up Caleb’s waist and skating across his ribs, tightening in his shirt and urging him closer. He exhales hot against Caleb’s lips, Caleb tasting the remnants of smoke on his tongue as Caduceus tilts his head up and grazes their lips together in a silent request.

Caleb doesn’t hesitate to press their lips together more firmly, groaning at the wet slide of Caduceus’ mouth against his own. Caduceus’ hand comes to rest at the nape of his neck, fingers warm and firm and holding him in place. His skin feels oversensitive, attuned to every touch of Caduceus’ fingers against it, his whole body shuddering when Caduceus’ tongue brushes against his lower lip.

He forces himself to pulls back, already breathing heavy, and takes the joint from Caduceus’ fingers, Caduceus blinking a little dazedly up at him as Caleb holds the joint to his lips. Caduceus accepts it silently and inhales, his eyes still fixed on Caleb’s face. Caleb lowers the joint again and puts his face close to Caduceus’, coaxes his mouth open and watches the smoke unfurl lazily from it and waft into his own mouth as he breathes in. He closes his eyes, swallowing as he holds the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before letting it go through his nose. He feels floaty, limbs heavy and light all at once as his head swims with the rapidly settling high.

“How do you feel?” Caduceus murmurs, voice low and rough from the smoke. He takes the joint lightly from Caleb’s hand and Caleb hears him take another hit, the quiet crackle of paper as he inhales before blowing the smoke out in a slow stream against Caleb’s parted lips, Caleb inhaling almost automatically.

Caleb lets out a soft, lush laugh that feels thick and dense on his tongue. He smiles, loose and pleased, and blinks blearily at Caduceus.

“Good,” he slurs, his lips slow and uncoordinated like they’re working two steps behind his brain.

“We might need to slow down,” Caduceus says as he takes in his lax expression and eyes he’s sure are bloodshot. Caduceus’ own eyes are red, his lids heavy as he blinks slowly up at Caleb.

Caleb shakes his head, giggling when the movement makes his world tip on its side for a moment. He leans back to pick up the bag of gummy bears from the bed behind him, fumbling with it a few times before he finally manages to get the bag open, a few of them scattering across Caduceus’ lap when the plastic rips. He picks one up, pinching it between his fingers and holding it towards Caduceus’ mouth.

“Open up,” he says, his own voice coming out slightly hoarse and dry, his throat itching from the smoke.

Caduceus chuckles but obeys and Caleb pushes his fingers into his open mouth to press the candy to his tongue, absently licking the sugar from his fingertips as he watches Caduceus chew silently. He pops a few of them into his own mouth before holding another one to Caduceus’ lips expectantly. Caduceus opens his mouth obediently, catching Caleb’s wrist when he tries to pull his hand away after dropping the gummy bear in his mouth again.

The grin slides off Caleb’s face as Caduceus closes his lips around his fingertips, his teeth scraping lightly against his skin as he sucks gently, color blooming across his cheeks and eyes fixed carefully on Caleb’s face, intense yet unsure.

Caleb swallows to try and wet his throat, lungs quaking as the air spills sharply out of them. He pushes his fingers further into Caduceus’ mouth, feeling his tongue stroke soft and slippery against the pads of his fingertips. The air feels impossibly thick around him, like he’s breathing something solid, settling heavy in his chest and leaving him dizzy, heat creeping up his neck and prickling across his skin.

He reaches between them to take the joint from Caduceus’ hand where it’s resting loosely in his lap, raising it to his lips to take another hit before stubbing it out on the little tray on the nightstand. He shifts forward on Caduceus’ thighs, lungs full of smoke and two fingers still curled in Caduceus’ mouth. Pressing down on Caduceus’ tongue, he teases his mouth open, leaning down to blow a stream of smoke into his mouth, watching it bloom and dissipate against his tongue. He trails his fingers down over Caduceus’ bottom lip and chin, brushing through the soft hair of his goatee before sliding them down the line of his throat and hooking in the collar of his shirt.

“Are you done?” Caduceus asks, half glancing at the joint where it’s now lying cold on the table.

“No,” Caleb murmurs, shaking his head. He slides his hand up Caduceus’ chest, fisting loosely in the fabric of his shirt. He closes his eyes, his own breath sounding loud and harsh in his ears.

He forces his eyes open again to find Caduceus staring back at him, peering up through those long, pale eyelashes. Caleb hesitates only a moment before catching Caduceus’ lips in a hungry kiss, groaning when Caduceus kisses him back eagerly, his arms wrapping around Caleb’s middle and tugging him forward so he’s sitting flush in his lap, bending his knees so his legs are holding Caleb in place. His fingers tighten in Caduceus’ shirt, his hips rolling forward to press closer to him, align his chest against Caduceus’ to put as much of their bodies in contact as possible. He needs it, needs to be close to him, needs to touch him like he needs oxygen.

Caduceus pushes his hands up the back of his shirt, fingers splaying warm against his skin, and Caleb shivers at the tremor it sends up his spine. Caduceus groans quietly, the noise low and rough and going straight to Caleb’s groin.

His hands roam over Caleb’s ribs and stomach and up across his chest, touch careful and hesitant and Caleb pulls away with a wet smack so he can tug his t-shirt over his head and toss it aside, whining when Caduceus’ lips find his neck, moving experimentally up over the hinge of his jaw to suck gently at his earlobe. Caleb grips his shoulders, head lolling back and eyes sliding shut as Caduceus mouths over his throat, bites lightly at his Adam’s apple, noses at the underside of his jaw with another soft groan.

His hands are warm and broad on his skin, sliding down across his shoulders and back. He pulls back to let his eyes rove across Caleb’s chest, tracing one finger along his collarbone, brushing it over his skin to map out the pattern of freckles on his chest reverently. He looks torn, equal parts apprehensive and curious, his eyes lifting to Caleb’s like he’s searching for guidance.

“What do you want?” Caleb murmurs, tilting his head forward to look at him and thumbing at the flush darkening his cheeks. “What do you want, Caduceus?”

“I don’t know,” Caduceus breathes, eyelids fluttering when Caleb shifts in his lap. Caleb can feel him growing hard against his ass and all he can think of is how _big_ he feels.

“I need to know what you want,” Caleb whispers. He rocks his hips down, watching Caduceus’ mouth fall open in a quiet gasp of pleasure. “Do you want this?”

“I-I, um—” he swallows and wets his lips, “maybe not yet. But I still want to kiss you. Please, Caleb, I don’t want to stop that.”

“We don’t have to,” Caleb assures him, running one hand soothingly over his ear. “I do not want to stop either.”

Caduceus looks faintly relieved, tightens his arms around Caleb’s waist and surges up to kiss him again, not quite as urgent as before but still deep and intense and needy. Caleb moans, stilling his hips even though he’s achingly hard, can feel Caduceus’ hard against him. He contents himself with sucking on Caduceus’ bottom lip and licking eagerly into his mouth, chasing the taste of smoke and sugar on his tongue.

He still feels like his world is flipping on end, everything somehow muted and foggy yet every inch of him hyper aware of each point of contact where Caduceus’ skin is hot against his own. He thinks he could spend the whole day here, wrapped up in Caduceus’ arms trading lax, open-mouthed kisses with him for hours. They kiss until the edge of heat softens and cools to something more tame, the wet smack of lips and quiet sound of their breathing filling the room around them. Until Caleb’s lips are plump and swollen from it, until the air is too-hot against his clothed skin, until the light streaming through the curtains has begun to creep across the wall as the sun crests and dips in the sky.

“I like kissing you,” Caduceus murmurs when they’ve moved slowly to exchanging lingering kisses between moments of simply leaning into each other and sharing breath, Caduceus’ hands resting flat on the bare skin of his back.

“That is good, given what we have been doing for the last hour or so,” Caleb says, smiling when Caduceus chuckles.

“I do though,” Caduceus insists, bumping his nose against Caleb’s. His expression turns apologetic. “I’m sorry we didn’t do more stuff.”

“Mm, don’t apologize,” Caleb says with a shake of his head. “We will do things at whatever pace you want. And if you never want to move past kissing we do not have to.”

“I… want to,” Caduceus mumbles, flushing. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You _do_ make me feel good, Caduceus,” Caleb says seriously. “Please do not think you have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable to do that.”

Caduceus smiles sheepishly, hugging him around the middle and burying his face in Caleb’s shoulder.

“I do want to,” he says when he pulls back to look up at Caleb. “Just… maybe not today.”

“As much time as you need,” Caleb says, combing his fingers through his pink hair and smiling.

“I really do like kissing, though,” Caduceus says, flushing as he says it.

Caleb laughs and kisses him chastely. “Mm, me too.”

Caduceus rests his head against his chest with a content sigh, Caleb absently sliding his fingers through his hair and over his ear for a few long minutes until his stomach rumbles loudly and Caduceus lets out a soft laugh that vibrates in his chest.

“C’mon,” he says, patting Caleb’s thigh. “I’ll get you lunch.”

They untangle from each other, Caleb wavering a little on his feet from the lingering high and laughing when Caduceus catches him around the waist when he stumbles.

“Ah, _Verdammt_ ,” he mumbles, leaning heavily against Caduceus’ chest, “I’m really high.”

Caduceus snorts out a laugh and Caleb looks up to see him looking as relaxed and spacey as he feels, eyelids heavy and lips turned up in a vacant smile.

“So are you,” Caleb says, poking him in the chest. “Do you think anyone will notice?”

Caduceus considers the question for a moment, before shrugging and saying, “Nah.”

People notice. Caleb doesn’t know if it’s due to the fact that they likely reek of weed or their giggly demeanor, but they receive at least a dozen suspicious looks from people as they make their way to the cafeteria, Caleb dressed in one of Caduceus’ t-shirts that’s so large on him it keeps threatening to slide off his shoulder. He’s still feeling incredibly floaty when they get to the cafeteria and Caduceus buys a plate of French fries drenched in processed yellow cheese that Caleb thinks might be the best thing he’s ever eaten in his life.

“I understand now why people do this,” he says, jabbing a fry in Caduceus’ direction.

“Hm?”

“This is garbage,” Caleb says, pointing at the plate of fries. “But it does not taste like garbage now.” He pops the fry into his mouth and licks the leftover cheese from his thumb. He doesn’t miss the way Caduceus’ eyes follow the movement of his tongue across his skin.

“You’re cute when you’re high,” he says fondly, reaching out to take a fry for himself.

“You are cute always,” Caleb says, wagging a finger at him sternly. He sighs, laying his down on his folded arms. “Do you think cats feel like this when they eat catnip?”

“I… I don’t know,” Caduceus replies, frowning at the question. “Does Frumpkin like catnip?”

“Mm, he gets very excited and hides on top of the refrigerator when he has it.” He rubs at his eyes when he itch dryly. “I think my cat is addicted to drugs.”

“I’m sure he’s just fine,” Caduceus says, reaching out to pat the back of Caleb’s hand with a chuckle. Caleb flips his hand to lace their fingers together, turning their joined hands over so he can admire how they fit into one another, Caduceus’ much larger hand easily dwarfing his own, the contrast of pale, freckled skin against soft blue-grey. He likes the way their hands look together.

“Do you want to take a walk?” Caduceus suggests, pulling Caleb’s attention from their hands. “We can go get ice cream from that place on Tremont that makes their own waffle cones.”

“Yes,” Caleb says, mouth watering at the thought.

They dump the rest of the fries into the trash and wander off campus to the tiny ice cream parlor a few blocks away, sitting at one of the benches in front of the store in the warm sun and sharing a slowly melting ice cream cone while their high begins to wear off. It’s possibly the most bizarre date—because, that’s what it is, he’s not sure what else to call it, doesn’t want it to be anything else—he’s ever been on, high as a kite and stuffing his face with junk food, occasionally trading kisses with Caduceus that taste like strawberry ice cream and chocolate syrup, their linked hands resting between them as Caleb holds the ice cream in his other hand, watching the way Caduceus’ tongue laps at it, broad and flat, when he holds it up for him. The shirt Caduceus had lent him smells like him, warm and earthy, and he can’t stop himself from lifting the collar to his nose every now and then.

He’s sobered up by the time they leave the shop, Caduceus insisting on walking him back to his apartment, and he leans back against the door and allows Caduceus to kiss him until he starts to feel light-headed from it. It’s with a sense of reluctance, knowing they won’t see each other for a week, that he eventually says goodbye, making Caduceus promise to call and promising to do they same. Caduceus kisses him again and Caleb has to force himself to stop or he thinks he’d spend the rest of the day kissing him.  He watches Caduceus stride off down the street and disappear around the corner, and he feels himself again fall a little bit harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so close to finishing writing this thing ahh. I've just got a tiny bit of the last main chapter and the endings to write! I'm hoping to take a week or so off and write some clayleb oneshots (before this ship is sorely underappreciated) before starting my next multi-chapter fic so if you're got any ideas for me find me on twitter @walkalittleline. 
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count has changed, 17 and 18 were so long I've decided to split them into 3 chapters. HOWEVER, since I don't want to take longer than originally planned to post this, I will be posting chapter 18 next Wednesday (5/29) and 19 on Sunday (6/2) then get back on the regular schedule with the new chapter 20. On the bright side, I have officially finished writing this fic! Ending 3 was just completed and I'm super excited to get started on some quick one-shots then move onto my next fic, which I will probably (If I can get a good buffer) start posting late July (FC will be done posting around the first week of July).
> 
> Both playlists updated for this chapter: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-iyuOCQ79c97vcmUvgD5uOaptUbxtQew1RJh9276Uw0/edit

The sun has only just begun to rise when Molly knocks on his door Saturday morning. Caleb stands from where he’s been waiting on the couch with his duffel bag in his lap, slinging the bag over his shoulder and giving Frumpkin another squeeze that pulls a small squeaking meow out of him and scratching him under the chin before pulling the door open. Molly is standing on the doorstep beaming and clutching two paper cups in his hands.

“Good morning, darling,” he says brightly, holding one of the steaming cups out to Caleb, who accepts it gratefully along with the kiss Molly presses to his cheek. “Ready to go?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb says, turning to kneel down and pat Frumpkin on the head. “Be good for Nott, okay? No more escape attempts.”

Frumpkin meows and pushes his head into his hand, blinking his large yellow eyes innocently up at him. Caleb pets him a final time before straightening up and locking the door behind him as he steps outside. There’s a gleaming, sky blue coupe parked at the curb, Beau waving from the driver’s seat and Yasha in the passenger seat beside her looking down at her phone with a bored expression.

“You’ll be okay without him?” Molly says gently, laying his hand on Caleb’s elbow.

“Mm, _ja_ , I will be okay,” Caleb mumbles. He’d left Nott a detailed list of instructions for taking care of Frumpkin and the plant Caduceus had bought him—which has been flourishing in their kitchen, the tulips long since wilted and hanging to dry so Caleb can eventually press them as a keepsake. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s not been away from Frumpkin for this long since he’d adopted him five years ago, hasn’t had to worry about not having him readily available when his brain starts to feel fuzzy and overwhelmed.

“We can Skype him from the house,” Molly suggests as he takes Caleb’s bag from him and they walk towards the car.

“I’m not that pathetic, am I?” Caleb grimaces.

“It’s not pathetic, darling,” Molly says. “And if you ever start to feel anxious or upset, anything, tell me, yeah?”

Caleb nods silently and follows him to the car, watching him pop the trunk to cram his bag in alongside the other suitcases packed into it, grunting a little as he maneuvers them around for everything to fit.

“There we go,” he says proudly when he’s gotten it in, slamming the trunk shut and grinning at Caleb. He opens the back door and slides across to the other side of the backseat to allow Caleb to climb in after him.

“Alright,” Beau says sternly when Caleb has pulled the door shut. She turns in her seat to look at him, expression serious, “Rules. This is not my car, Jester is letting me borrow it, so no eating, no drinks without a lid, no putting your feet on the seats—I swear to _god_ , Molly, you kick my seat, I’m throwing you out and you can hitchhike—” Molly rolls his eyes behind her back, “—I pick the music because I’m driving, there will be _no_ indecent activity in this backseat—” Molly snorts, “—and if I find a single piece of fucking trash in here, I’m cutting off fingers.”

“She’s so warm and friendly, isn’t she?” Molly says, grinning cheekily when Beau points a warning finger at him before turning back around in her seat to face forward and shift the car into drive.

Molly leans closer to Caleb so he can lower his voice. “Don’t worry,” he says, holding up a folded blanket from where it’s crumpled on the floor. “We can be sneaky if you want.” He winks as he stuffs the blanket back on the floor and Caleb shakes his head, chuckling.

“I’m just saying,” Molly says, shrugging as he settles back into his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s a long drive.” He reaches across the seat to squeeze Caleb’s hand, his smile softening.

He suddenly sits up straighter like he’s just remembered something. “Oh! That reminds me!” He shifts his coffee to his other hand so he can reach into the pocket of his jeans and pull something out. “I forgot to give you your souvenir from New York.” He holds his hand out to Caleb, showing him the little keychain he’s holding. It’s simple, a thick silver ring around a smaller, flat medallion that says “I <3 New York” in black letters, the inner piece mounted in a way that it rotates inside the silver ring.

“I figured, it’s kind of like one of those fidget things, you know?” he says as Caleb picks up the keychain and turns it over in his hand. “For like, when you’re feeling anxious, you can distract yourself so you don’t, you know—” he mimes scratching his arms, hands falling back at his sides as he watches Caleb anxiously. “Sorry, is it stupid? I just thought, it’s small so it won’t be really obvious, but you could still—”

“Molly,” Caleb says softly. He feels a little overwhelmed with the fact that Molly had put so much thought into it, hadn’t simply tried to forget about seeing Caleb at his lowest and wants to help him. “Thank you. I love it.”

Molly releases a sigh of relief, smiling shyly. Caleb leans across the seat to kiss him, humming at the taste of chocolate and coffee on his lips.

“What did I _just_ say?” Beau cries from the front seat, glaring at them in the rearview mirror as they break apart.

“We were having a moment, you ass,” Molly gripes, scowling and pushing at her headrest.

“Have a moment when I don’t have to witness it,” she responds with a disgusted face.

Molly flicks her off behind the seat.

“So, uh, Yasha,” Beau says as they’re pulling onto the interstate. Yasha looks up from her phone. Molly tilts his head to Caleb with an amused look and mouths, _here we go_. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Oh, um, I like acoustic things mostly, I guess,” Yasha says with a shrug. “I like quiet music.”

“Cool, cool,” Beau says, nodding, “Not into, like, heavy metal? I just figured, with the—” she gestures to her own hair and Yasha frowns in confusion. “No, yeah, that’s cool.” She clears her throat and half-glances to Yasha’s phone. “You, uh, are you playing a game or something?”

“Yes,” Yasha replies, not elaborating further.

“Cool, awesome,” Beau says, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

“It’s painful to listen to,” Molly whispers as Beau and Yasha fall into an awkward silence again.

Caleb chuckles. They drive in silence for awhile, Caleb leaning against the window and slowly drinking his coffee, turning the keychain over in his hand absently while Molly scrolls through his phone next to him, occasionally laughing at something under his breath, Beau shooting half-glances at Yasha every now and then. They’ve been on the road for a little over an hour, just crossing the state line into Connecticut, when Caleb’s phone vibrates in his pocket.

There’s a picture from Caduceus of him smiling in the passenger seat of a car, Claribel waving brightly from the driver seat beside him. He looks soft and comfortable, his hair pulled back off his face, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sunglasses set on top of his head.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _five minutes in and she’s already asking me questions :/_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _oh?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _she said she could ‘see it on my face’ when she asked about you_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _what does that mean? See what?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _did you guys leave yet?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _about an hour ago, yeah_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _have fun :) be safe_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _can I still call you later?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _of course_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _:)_

Caleb dozes off soon after, waking with a jolt when Molly shakes his arm gently to tell him they’re stopping for gas and breakfast. Caleb blinks and rubs sleep from his eyes, peering around at the rest stop they’ve parked in that contains a few fast food restaurants and a gas station.

“Where are we?” he mumbles, feeling disoriented waking up somewhere different from where he’d fallen asleep.

“Just got into New York,” Molly replies as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “We’ve been driving about three hours I think.” He smiles, leaning across the seat to kiss Caleb’s cheek. “Hungry?”

“Mm, yeah,” Caleb yawns into the back of his hand, his stomach grumbling on cue.

“Watch this,” Molly mutters with a smirk, popping his index finger into his mouth and sucking on it for a few seconds, winking at Caleb’s questioning look.

Beau lets out a shout of rage when Molly reaches over the seat and shoves his wet finger into her ear before leaping out of the car and sprinting towards the nearest restaurant with a cackle of laughter. She flings the keys at Caleb before bolting after him, hurling threats at his back. Caleb fumbles the keys against his chest as he catches them. He climbs out of the car onto the cracked pavement, Yasha doing the same in front of him. He stretches his back with a grimace, pushing the button on the key fob to lock the doors.

“Should we make sure they do not kill each other?” he says, glancing at Yasha, who shrugs but follows after him towards the building.

Molly and Beau are already at the counter ordering when they get inside, elbowing each other and bickering while the teenager behind the counter looks vaguely—understandably—overwhelmed.

“Darling, what do you want?” Molly says, sliding his arm around Caleb’s waist when they approach. “Besides me, of course.”

“God, for _two seconds_ ,” Beau groans, pretending to gag.

“Jealousy isn’t cute,” Molly sings and wraps his other arm around Caleb’s middle, kissing his cheek happily.

They fill up on cheap sandwiches and more coffee before loading back into the car again, more awake now that they’ve eaten and the sun has fully risen overhead, warm and bright in the clear sky. Molly convinces Beau to let him choose the music for an hour, both of them loudly singing along as they skirt around New York City and make their way into New Jersey, the windows rolled down to allow the unseasonably warm air to blow through the car. They complain about classes and speculate on their midterm results then spend twenty minutes arguing among themselves about what they’re going to do while they’re in Ocean City.

When Beau proclaims that they’re halfway there, Molly unbuckles his seatbelt and slides across the seat next to Caleb, tugging the blanket into his lap and draping it over his legs.

“Hey,” Beau says sharply, narrowing her eyes in the rearview mirror and them.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Molly retorts, glowering. He pulls his legs onto the seat and leans against Caleb’s shoulder. “This okay?” he murmurs, snuggling deeper into Caleb’s side.

“Mm, yeah,” Caleb replies, pulling his arm free so he can curl it around him loosely. He kisses his hair, tilting his head against Molly’s and feeling him sigh contentedly against him.

He texts Nott to check on Frumpkin, receiving a picture of him curled on Caleb’s bed asleep in response. They’re nearing Philadelphia when his phone buzzes in his hand again, Molly fast asleep against his shoulder, legs curled up on the seat and one hand resting in Caleb’s lap.

 **_Caduceus Clay_ ** _: Just got home :)_

There’s a picture attached of a quaint stone house, scattered headstones visible behind a wrought iron fence to the left of it, the faint glimmer of some distant body of water visible through the trees in the background. There is a multitude of flowers blooming from every available inch of ground not covered by the path leading to the house, dark vines climbing up the stonework.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _your home is very beautiful_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _thanks :)_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Clara says hi by the way_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _oh, hello, Claribel_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _can I call you?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _sure, we’re just driving_

His phone is silent for a minute before it buzzes in his hand indicating a call from Caduceus.

“ _Hallo_ ,” he says, smiling as he answers the call.

“Hey,” Caduceus says, sounding slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just had to get away from Clara when she saw I was calling you. I locked myself in my room though so...”

Caleb laughs quietly, warmth spreading through his chest at the sound of his voice.

“She is still asking about it?” he says.

Caduceus hums and Caleb hears the creak of bedsprings through the phone as he lies down.

“She keeps saying you should have come with us,” he says. “I told her meeting her was enough to last you awhile. That and you already had plans.” He sighs quietly. “How’s your drive going?”

“Okay; we are in Pennsylvania now.” Molly shifts against him in his sleep, making a soft noise in his throat and tilting his head up so his nose brushes against Caleb’s neck, his breath tickling his skin. “Was everything good for yours? Apart from your sister?”

Caduceus laughs. “Yeah, traffic was light so we made good time. Mom and Cas are out getting lunch. I’m sure Clara is busy telling Dad and Corrin everything.” He groans in annoyance. “Maybe I’ll just stay in here the whole week.”

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says with a grimace.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Caduceus says. “I like talking about you.”

Caleb’s stomach squirms pleasantly. He hears a knock on the other end of the line and Caduceus grumbles under his breath.

“Caduceus, open up!” a muffled, unfamiliar voice says excitedly.

“I’m on the phone, Corrin,” Caduceus calls, the frown clear in his voice.

“Are you talking to your boyfriend?!”

“No, and tell Clara I’m filling all her shoes with mud because she can’t shut her stupid mouth.”

“It _is_ your boyfriend!”

“Go away, Corrin.”

“Dad said he wants a picture.”

“I don’t have one, go away.”

“Geez, you’re a shitty boyfriend.”

“Go away!”

He huffs angrily and Caleb can’t help but chuckle quietly.

“Sorry,” Caduceus grumbles.

“Would you like one?” Caleb says.

“One what?”

“A picture. To show your family,” Caleb clarifies.

“Oh,” Caduceus goes quiet for a moment. “Really?”

“Sure. I don’t have a lot but there is one of me and Nott I took a little while ago.”

“I’d like that,” Caduceus says, the smile clear in his voice.

Molly shifts against him again, humming happily as he presses a sleepy kiss to the underside of his jaw. Caleb combs his fingers absently through his hair and glances up, starting when he sees Beau watching him in the rearview mirror with a disapproving look. He looks away quickly, staring out the window as guilt creeps up his neck. He hears another knock on Caduceus’ end.

“What?” Caduceus calls agitatedly.

“Calm down, dummy, lunch is here,” Claribel’s voice says.

Caduceus sighs. “Okay, one minute. I gotta go,” he says, voice lowering as he returns to the phone. “Let me know when you get there, yeah?”

“Mm, sure.”

Caduceus’ voice softens. “I miss you,” he says shyly.

Caleb glances at the rearview mirror, relieved to see Beau is no longer looking at him. “I miss you, too.”

“I, um, I’ll talk to you later,” Caduceus says.

“Goodbye, _Bärchen_.”

Caduceus makes a pleased noise then the call ends. Caleb stares at his phone for a few seconds before flipping through his pictures—most of which are of Frumpkin—to find the one of him and Nott they’d taken a few months before at New Years. His hair was shorter then, he thinks he should probably get it cut soon, it’s nearing his shoulders now.

He sends the picture to Caduceus before pulling up his camera, focusing it on Molly’s slack, sleeping face and smiling as he takes a picture. He looks peaceful, younger in his sleep. Caleb pushes the loose curls off his face and kisses him gently.

Molly’s eyes blink open slowly, lips curving up in a sleepy smile as he meets Caleb’s eyes.

“Hey, handsome,” he murmurs, tilting his chin up to kiss him again, his arm sliding around Caleb’s middle. He groans quietly, tongue slipping passed Caleb’s lips as his fingers sneak under the hem of his shirt to rest warm on his hip.

“Hey, hey, keep it PG back there,” Beau says, reaching behind her to snap her fingers at them.

Molly grouses but pulls away from Caleb regardless, though he stays curled against his side, his fingertips absently brushing up and down Caleb’s thigh.

“How much longer?” he whines, yawning.

“Two and a half hours,” Beau replies, glancing at the GPS.

“Can we stop? My legs are falling asleep and I’m starving.”

“Yeah, we could probably use a top off, too,” Beau says as she eyes the gas gauge.

They stop outside of Philadelphia at another rest area, stretching out the kinks in their limbs and sitting on the curb enjoying the sunshine as they eat lunch.

“Oh, hey, Beau, is that amusement park open yet?” Molly asks, reaching across Caleb to steal one of his potato chips.

“Eh, maybe,” Beau says with a shrug. “It might be too early, let me check.”

“I want to ride the Ferris wheel,” Molly says as Beau pulls out her phone.

“Says here it opened yesterday with limited hours,” Beau reads off her screen. “It’s open tonight til eight so we could go after we stop at the house.”

“Yes!” Molly says excitedly, clapping his hands together. “Oh, let’s get dinner then we can walk on the beach then ride the Ferris wheel.”

“Are you making plans for all of us or just you two?” Beau deadpans.

“Oh, shut up,” Molly bites, throwing a hunk of bread at her.

“I am not a fan of heights,” Yasha interjects, looking to Beau. “Maybe you and I can do something else instead?”

Beau stares at her like a deer in headlights for a full five seconds before spluttering, “o-oh, uh, yeah, um, sure, totally we could totally do something. Cool.”

Molly rolls his eyes.

They reluctantly pile back into the car once Beau has filled the gas tank, Caleb starting to feel a little stir crazy being in the car for so long.

“Anything in particular you want to do while we’re there?” Molly asks Caleb when they’ve pulled back onto the interstate.

“Hm, not really,” Caleb replies with a shrug, “I was just looking forward to spending time with you.”

Molly beams happily at this.

“I bet we can ditch Beau and Yasha for awhile if you want,” he says slyly, glancing to the front where Beau is now attempting to ask Yasha about her and Molly’s trip to New York. “We do need to make sure I can show off my special outfit.” He leans closer to Caleb, lowering his voice. “Ever fucked a guy in a corset?” He smirks when Caleb shakes his head, swallowing thickly at the thought. “I can’t wait to get you inside me. I was thinking about it last night. Had to get myself off in the shower so Beau and Jester didn’t know what I was doing.”

Caleb shifts uncomfortably in his seat as heat throbs in his groin. He lays his hands in his lap and Molly chuckles.

“Just wait til I get my hands on you again,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers up Caleb’s arm. He glances to the front to where Beau and Yasha are talking before discreetly shifting the blanket over Caleb’s lap. His hand slides up Caleb’s thigh, settling over his cock and rubbing his palm over the spot. Caleb chokes back a groan, keeping his face carefully schooled in a blanks expression.

“What if I got you off like this?” Molly breathes in his ear, thumbing open the button on Caleb’s jeans. “Could you be quiet?” He squeezes Caleb’s half-hard cock and Caleb exhales sharply through his nose, mouth pressed in a thin line.

“Mm, no,” Molly murmurs, pulling his hand away with a smirk. “I want to wait to have you alone.” He slides back to his own seat, looking smug and Caleb has to spend ten minutes waiting for his erection to flag before rebuttoning his pants, his skin left feeling static and yearning for touch.

He pulls out his phone, half-glancing at Molly as he types out a message.

**_Caleb:_ ** _that was not very fair_

He hears Molly laugh under his breath, grinning as his thumbs tap across his screen.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _what are you going to do about it?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I haven’t decided, but I am going to make you regret it_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _don’t make promises you can’t keep, Widogast_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I don’t intend to_

Molly chuckles, flashing Caleb a challenging look that Caleb returns, savoring the crackle of electricity he feels skitter across his skin. He’s still on edge for the next hour as they pass from Pennsylvania into Delaware.

Molly begins to look excitedly out the window when they pass into Maryland with only half an hour left according to the GPS, bouncing a little in his seat when they drive the long stretch of road across the bay onto the island itself. It takes another ten minutes of sitting in traffic before they finally pull off the main drag running up the island, passing tourist traps and rows of condominiums, and park in front of a small, two-story house.

Molly jumps out of the car the second Beau shifts it into park, running up the stairs that lead to the front deck and craning his neck towards where the ramp leading to the boardwalk is visible two houses down.

“Beau let me in so I can go to the balcony,” he calls, “I can’t see the ocean from here.”

“You could just walk a hundred feet to the boardwalk and see it,” Beau replies as the rest of them climb out of the car, stretching gratefully. The air smells of brine and what Caleb thinks might be funnel cakes, the scent drifting down from the boardwalk towards them.

Molly glowers at her but climbs back down the stairs to help them unload the luggage, dragging his bag up the stairs behind Caleb and huffing impatiently as Beau fiddles with the keypad on the door to let them in.

“Caleb and I get the biggest bedroom!” he cries as soon as the door swings inward, shouldering past Beau and dumping his bag on the floor before making his way towards the stairs leading up to the second floor and the balcony.

Beau rolls her eyes, dropping her own bag next to his as Caleb looks around. The first floor is comprised primarily of a single open room containing the kitchen, living, and dining room, several closed doors leading off to other rooms, all the furniture white wood with soft blue and grey fabrics, the shelves and walls decorated with cliched driftwood and seashells, though it looks comfortable enough.

“Your bedroom is upstairs,” Beau says begrudgingly.

“Oh, thank you, Beauregard,” Caleb replies, hitching his bag up his shoulder.

“Look, I only gave you guys the master because I _cannot_ share a bed with Yasha,” Beau says under her breath, glancing at Yasha where she’s examining a framed picture of who Caleb assumes is Beau’s parents with mild interest. Beau’s express turns faintly distressed. “Caleb, she’s so hot, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I would say talk to her, but you’re not very good at that,” Caleb replies flatly.

“Yeah, well, fuck you, too,” Beau says with a scowl, punching him in the arm in a way he thinks is intended to be friendly but that leaves him rubbing his bicep and wincing as he makes his way up the stairs where Molly had disappeared.

The loft is a single bedroom with what Caleb assumes is a bathroom off one side, a king-sized bed situated against one wall and a sliding door to the balcony opposite the stairs. Molly is standing at the railing, gazing towards the ocean with a wide grin, the breeze ruffling his hair as he closes his eyes with a content sigh.

Caleb sets his bag on the bed before stepping out onto the balcony with him, looking out at the stretch of sand that leads to the dark line of the ocean, the white crest of waves visible every now and then. He slips his arms around Molly’s middle and kisses the back of his neck, breathing in the scent of lavender from his sun-warm skin. Molly hums and leans back into his touch, tilting his head to the side to allow Caleb to brush his lips up the side of his neck.

“We’re leaving to get dinner in twenty minutes,” Beau calls up the stairs.

“Mm, I’d say we could make that work but I desperately need a hot shower after that ride,” Molly says, disentangling himself from Caleb with a sigh.

“Yeah, me too,” Caleb says, pulling a face as he sniffs his shirt. He allows Molly to shower first, trying not to think about the fact that he’s wet and naked on the other side of the door as he unpacks his bag into the dresser, pausing when the sound of the shower shuts off and Molly walks out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist. Caleb automatically sweeps his gaze over the bare skin of his chest and stomach, eyeing the little drops of water sliding tantalizingly over the lines of his tattoos.

“So much better,” he says, absently toweling his hair dry. He stops, glancing around and frowning. “Shit, I left my bag downstairs.”

“I’ll get it,” Caleb jogs down the stairs and picks up Molly’s bag from beside the door, grunting at how heavy it is and half carrying, half dragging it up to the loft.

“What do you have in this thing, bricks?” he says as he crests the stairs, breathing a little heavily.

“I come prepared,” Molly replies breezily, walking across the room to take the bag from Caleb and plopping it on the bed. He lets the towel drop to the floor from around his waist as he begins rifling through the bag for clean clothes.

Caleb feels his mouth go dry at the sight of him naked, itching to run his hands down his back and over the curve of his ass.

“You should shower. Beau won’t be happy if we have to leave late.” His voice is light, but Caleb picks up the faintly teasing note in his words, his tail swishing sinuously back and forth as he glances over his shoulder at him.

Caleb nods but doesn’t move from where he’s standing a few feet behind him. He shakes his head a little to clear the encroaching haze of arousal and gathers up clean clothes before heading to the bathroom. He showers quickly, scrubbing off the grimy feeling of being in the car for so long. He gets dressed, pulling a face at his reflection in the mirror and tugging at his hair before stepping back into the bedroom.

Molly is laying on the bed on his stomach scrolling through his phone when he emerges, dressed in his usual skin-tight pants, which aren’t helping Caleb’s brain from wandering back to their conversation in the car earlier.

“Ready to go?” he says, grinning as he stands and holds his hand out to Caleb, who takes it in his own, heart swelling at the contact.

Beau and Yasha are waiting in the living room when they come downstairs, sitting on opposite ends of the couch in silence, Beau shooting restless glances at Yasha every few seconds. She looks at their joined hands with a mix of faux disgust and what Caleb thinks is jealousy.

They walk down to the boardwalk, meandering down the wide walkway that runs parallel to the ocean, making their way towards the distant pier, Molly swinging their hands absently between them. They share a pizza at a cramped restaurant on the pier, watching the sun sink lower in the sky until it’s no longer visible over the tops of the buildings.

When they’re finished, Molly drags him down to where the boardwalk drops off onto the sand, tugging off his shoes and rolling up the hem of his pants to walk barefoot through the sand towards the water.

Yasha and Beau trail behind them, Beau kicking off her own shoes when they reach the spot where the sand darkens where the water rushes up to meet them before drawing back to swell and crash in a spray of white foam. She wriggles her toes down into the sand until her feet are completely covered, making a pleased noise. Molly creeps up behind her, smirking, and shoves her hard, sending her toppling as a wave breaks across the sand.

She leaps up, looking murderous, drenched and caked with wet sand, Molly clapping a hand to his mouth looking somewhere between amused and apologetic.

“Beau,” he says, holding up his hands and taking a step back, “Beau, I didn’t mean—”

He yelps and takes off down the beach as Beau snarls and lunges towards him.

“You’re dead, you purple bastard!” she screams after him, hot on his tail.

“They may actually kill each other on this trip,” Caleb says mildly to Yasha as he watches Beau tackle Molly bodily to the ground and shove a handful of wet sand into his face as he shrieks.

Yasha, to his surprise, laughs quietly. He looks over to see her watching them with a fond smile.

“They care about each other more than they pretend,” she says. She turns to Caleb, expression turning more serious. “You were talking to Caduceus Clay earlier, weren’t you? In the car?”

Caleb blinks, taken aback by the question, unaware she’d been paying any attention to his conversation.

“Oh, ah, yes,” he says apprehensively. “Yes, I was.”

She makes a considering noise, looking back down the beach where Beau is now pulling Molly to his feet and roughly brushing down his clothes as he spits out a mouthful of sand, scraping his tongue with his fingernails.

“You are also involved with him, yes?” She’s not looking at Caleb as she says it, arms folded loosely across her chest. “Romantically?”

“Ah, yes,” Caleb mutters, heat prickling up the back of his neck when she gives him a scrutinizing look.

“I won’t lie,” she begins, “I don’t really like it. I trust Molly’s judgement. But I also know that he might be a little blinded by how much he cares about you and what he’s willing to put up with to be with you.

“I don’t think you would intentionally hurt him, Caleb, but I need to know that you care about him as much as he cares about you.”

“I do,” Caleb says insistently.

“Do you love him?”

Caleb falters at the question, pausing as he turns it over in his head.

“I… I don’t know if I could say this yet,” he says carefully. “But I believe that I am… on my way to it. I would not hesitate to say that I am falling in love with him.”

It’s oddly freeing admitting it out loud, admitting it to himself. He’s been thinking about love more since the idea had come up after Caduceus had kissed him the first time and he knows now he is undeniably falling in love with Molly, has been for longer than he thinks he realized, the same way he’s been falling in love with Caduceus. Though he doesn’t think it prudent to mention this last part to Yasha.

She gives him an appraising look, tilting her head and furrowing her brow.

“Alright,” she says eventually, nodding. “Just… don’t hurt him.” There’s no threatening tone behind her words, more forlorn than anything.

“I would not if I can avoid it,” Caleb says as Molly and Beau approach, plodding through the sand and bickering good-naturedly.

“Ready to go down to the pier?” Molly says, plopping down in the sand to pull on his shoes.

“Do you want to go, Yasha?” Beau says as she hops on one leg to tug her own shoes on. “Or, uh, do you wanna do something else?”

“We can go, I just don’t want to ride the Ferris wheel,” Yasha replies with a shrug.

“I’m sure they have tons of shitty games you can waste your money on,” Molly says, looking excited at the prospect. “I can win the ring toss one every time.”

“Bullshit,” Beau scoffs.

“Twenty bucks I win it three times in a row,” Molly retorts, sticking his hand out towards her. “And pay me back for what I play.”

“Done,” Beau shakes his hand.

They continue down the sand to make their way to the pier, walking through the arched entrance to the amusement park situated at the end of the boardwalk where the pier juts out over the water.

“Oh, it’s horrible,” Molly says delightedly, looking around at the stalls of carnival games displaying giant stuffed animals, the rides lit up with multicolored lights, food stalls selling cotton candy and all manner of things battered and deep fried. “I love it.”

Caleb laughs, allowing Molly to take his hand and tug him towards the ring toss game situated by the slowly rotating carousel, bright, tinkling calliope music playing from the speakers situated around the colorful canopy.

“Prepare to lose twenty bucks,” Molly says as he smacks three five dollar bills onto the counter and accepts a small stack of rings from the woman inside the booth for three rounds of play.

Caleb watches, impressed, as he almost lazily flicks the rings out into the sea of bottles set up in the center of the booth, each one easily ringing on the neck of one of the bottles with the loud _clink_ of plastic on glass. Beau’s face is a picture of horrified disbelief as Molly feigns yawning and flings the last ring out, turning to hold his hand out expectantly before it has even found its mark.

“Cough it up,” he says, wiggling his fingers impatiently as Beau pulls out her wallet, grumbling, and slaps the money into his palm.

“Thank you,” Molly sings as he pockets the money. He turns back to the booth, scrunching his nose up in a thoughtful look. “What do you want, darling?”

“What do you mean?” Caleb says.

“What prize do you want?” Molly clarifies, perusing the various stuffed animals lined up along the rear wall. “Oh, hey, that one looks kind of like Frumpkin!” He points to a stuffed cat pinned about halfway up the wall before looking to the woman running the booth. “What are our options?”

“One from the top,” she says, pointing to the stuffed animals at the top of the wall that are almost half Caleb’s size, “or two from here, three from here, or five of the little ones.”

“Hm… can we have one of the striped cats?” Molly says, gesturing to the small stuffed cat that looks vaguely like Frumpkin. “And one of the black cats. Yasha number two,” he says under his breath to Caleb as she goes to pull the indicated animals down.

Caleb looks at his as Molly passes it to him. It’s cheaply made, the features a little lopsided in spots, but it has yellow eyes and spotted fur like Frumpkin.

“Look, they like each other,” Molly says, making his own cat bump noses with Caleb’s and grinning.

“Gross,” Beau mutters.

Molly ignores her apart from holding his middle finger out in her direction.

“Come on, let’s go ride the Ferris wheel and leave these sad sacks to feel sorry they don’t have their own prizes,” he says loftily, tucking the stuffed cat under one arm and looping his other arm around Caleb’s elbow.

“Hey, so, Yasha, do you want to ride something else? I mean another ride?” Beau is saying as Molly leads him towards where the Ferris wheel towers over the rest of the park.

The spidery spokes are lit up green and blue in the dimming light as the sun sinks lower in the sky, the little multi-colored, canopied buckets swinging gently as the wheel slowly rotates. They move to the back of the short queue behind a family with two small girls, Molly grinning and pulling faces at one of them as she stares at him wide-eyed over her father's shoulder, giggling and hiding her face when he pokes his tongue out.

“You have horns,” the other girl says, glancing up Molly where she’s holding her mother’s hand.

“I do,” Molly says happily, touching one of his horns lightly. “I’ve got a tail as well, you see?” He swishes his tail toward her so she can see the spaded tip.

“I like your jewelry,” the younger girl says shyly, pointing to the chains and rings dangling from Molly’s horns. “It’s pretty.”

“Isn’t it?” Molly says as they move forward a few more steps.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” the older girl says, gesturing to the holes in Molly’s horns where he’s pierced them.

“Nope. See?” He reaches up to knock his fist against his horn a few times, shrugging. “Can’t really feel it.”

The girls exchange awestruck looks. The older one points at Caleb, who’s been watching the exchange with vague amusement.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Olivia,” their mother says warningly, tugging lightly on her hand. She turns forward for a few seconds before glancing expectantly back at Molly.

“He is,” he says in a loud whisper, winking. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

She gives Caleb a scrutinizing look and he clears his throat, blushing as Molly chuckles.

“He’s okay,” she says at last. She looks back to Molly. “You’re prettier.”

She turns to face forward again as Molly lets out a snort of laughter. Caleb’s not sure whether or not he should feel offended at being insulted by a six year old. His pride is a little wounded regardless.

“Darling, don’t listen to her,” Molly mutters as the girls and their parents step up to take the next two cars. “I think you’re very pretty.”

Caleb gives him a deadpanned look and Molly laughs brightly as they move up to wait for the next free spot.

“Go ahead,” Molly mutters when the ride stops and Caleb moves to take a seat in the emptied car. He watches Molly move to talk to the ride operator, saying something Caleb can’t hear and half-glancing in Caleb’s direction before shaking the man’s hand.

“What was that about?” Caleb asks when Molly slides into the seat next to him and the ride trundles to life.

“Nothing,” Molly says airily, not meeting his eye.

The car swings lightly as the wheel rotates, taking them slowly higher until they’re up above the rest of the park, gazing across the island to where the bay is lit up with an orange glow from the setting sun, the surface rippling faintly.

It’s cooler now that the sun is going down, even more so as high up as they are, and Caleb shivers involuntarily, regretting not bringing a coat with him. The ride shudders to a halt when they reach the very top of the wheel, and he turns to look out across the beach, the endless stretch of boardwalk, sand and dark water to his right dotted with people.

He turns to Molly, smiling at the sight of him, eyes closed and head tilted back, his skin awash with dying sunlight and his lips turned up in a content smile. His eyes blink open, and he looks at Caleb, grin widening and his hand finding Caleb’s on the seat between them.

“We’ve got a few minutes,” he says, squeezing Caleb’s hand as he leans his head against his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

Molly sits up again, smirking. “I speak fluent carny,” he says, patting the pocket where he keeps his wallet. His gaze softens almost shyly and he hesitates a moment before leaning over and kissing Caleb gently. Caleb smiles and kisses him back, resting his hand on Molly’s waist as Molly brushes his fingers over his jaw. It’s tentative, tender in a way that he’s not used to when it comes to kissing Molly the few times he’s gotten a chance to do so. It’s not unwelcome, though, it makes something warm and pleased spread through him, wards off the chill that’s been sinking into his skin.

Molly pulls back after a minute or two, staying close and letting his forehead rest against Caleb’s. His eyes flick over Caleb’s face, his expression oddly reserved, almost anxious.

“Caleb?”

“Hm?”

He takes a breath, pressing his lips together. “I, um… you know that I…” he exhales shakily and Caleb squeezes his hand encouragingly. “Caleb, I…” He closes his eyes briefly, pressing a fleeting kiss to Caleb’s lips before looking down at their joined hands. “I’m really glad you came along.”

“Mm, me too,” Caleb says, smiling as he tilts Molly’s chin up to kiss him again. He starts when the ride rattles to life again, Molly grinning against his lips but not pulling away until they’re almost to the bottom again.

Molly nods to the ride operator as they climb off, smiling stiffly. Caleb keeps their hands clasped together as they walk through the crowd back in the direction they’d come, peering around for Beau and Yasha, Molly strangely subdued.

“Over here! Caleb, Molly!”

They both turn at the sound of Beau’s shout, stopping as she and Yasha weave through the crowd towards them, Beau clutching what looks to be a massive stuffed shark and Yasha carrying two paper plates loaded with funnel cakes coated in powdered sugar.

“Look what Yasha won at the bottle game,” Beau says smugly, shoving the shark in Molly’s face. “Better than a dumb cat.”

Molly scoffs and accepts the funnel cake Yasha holds out to him. They find a bench near the entrance to share while they eat their funnel cakes, Beau shooting Caleb and Molly envious glances as Molly feeds pieces to Caleb, licking the powdered sugar off his fingers before ripping off a piece to pop into his own mouth.

The sun has fully set by the time they’re finished, the sky dotted with stars and the chill settling more heavily over the park as cold air blows up from the ocean. Caleb wraps his arms around himself, shivering.

“If I had a coat, I’d give it to you,” Molly says regretfully, looking down at his own flimsy shirt. “Yasha, give Caleb your jacket, he’s cold.”

“Hey, what if _I_ wanted it?” Beau pipes up angrily, her own teeth chattering. She turns pink as Molly gives her a dubious look.

“You can have it,” Yasha says, shrugging off her denim jacket and draping it around Beau’s shoulders. Beau’s cheeks turns scarlet and she shrinks into her seat as she slips her arms into the sleeves, her hands barely poking out of the ends.

“Sorry, darling, I’m gonna have to give her this one,” Molly mumbles to Caleb, who stifles a laugh.

Molly grins and reaches up to tuck Caleb’s hair behind his ear absently.

“Your hair is getting long,” he says, touching the tips where they’re brushing Caleb’s shoulders.

“I need to cut it,” Caleb replies with a grimace. “I’ll make Nott do it when we get back.”

“Oh, Yasha can do it!” Molly says, “she’s cut mine forever.” He leans forward to look down the bench at Yasha. “Can you cut Caleb’s hair tomorrow?”

Yasha eyes Caleb’s hair in consideration. “Yeah, okay, sure,” she shrugs.

“There you go,” Molly says brightly. Caleb tries not to feel apprehensive about the idea after his conversation with Yasha on the beach.

They spend the next hour walking aimlessly through the park, riding a few of the tamer rides before deciding to head back to the house as it begins to get so cold Caleb’s fingers are starting to feel a little numb. It’s nearing ten o’clock when they finally get back to the house, yawning and shuffling up the stairs to the front door.

“I’m so ready to sleep in a big bed,” Molly says, happily collapsing face first onto the king bed when he and Caleb reach their room after bidding the girls goodnight. He groans tiredly into the blankets before rolling onto his back.

“Darling, as much as I love the idea of jumping your bones, I think we might have to put it off until tomorrow,” he says regretfully, wincing and rubbing his back as he sits up. “That drive was hell.”

“No, me too, I just want to sleep,” Caleb agrees, kicking off his shoes and pulling out his phone to check it for the first time that evening. His stomach sinks guiltily when he sees two missed calls and a text message from Caduceus, the later of which having arrived nearly half an hour ago.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I guess you’re busy, sunshine. I’m pretty beat so I’m going to bed, hopefully we can talk tomorrow :)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’m so sorry, I didn’t check my phone, are you still up?_

He lays his phone down and begins getting ready for bed. He’s finishing brushing his teeth, Molly already undressed save his underwear and sprawled out asleep under the blankets, when his phone rings. He hurries to answer it, checking the Molly is still asleep before slipping out onto the balcony, immediately shivering as the cold air hits his skin.

“Caduceus?” he clenches his teeth together to keep them from chattering as he waits for Caduceus to respond.

“Hey,” Caduceus says, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

“Were you asleep?”

“Mm, yeah. Wanted to talk to you though.” He yawns and Caleb hears the rustle of fabric through the phone.

“No, no, go back to sleep,” Caleb says, feeling another stab of guilt. “We can talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ve got family stuff all day tomorrow,” Caduceus mumbles groggily. “Will you be free tomorrow night?”

“I will make sure I am free,” Caleb says firmly. “I promise.”

Caduceus hums sleepily. “Okay.” He laughs quietly. “My mom says you’re very handsome, by the way. I showed them that picture you sent. She wants to meet you,” he says around a yawn. “Sorry, is it weird to say that already?”

“Is it?” Caleb says, already smiling at the idea of meeting the rest of Caduceus’ family. “I think it would be fun to meet them.”

Caduceus chuckles. “You don’t know my family.”

“No, but I know you.”

Caduceus is quiet for a moment.

“Are you having a good time?” he says at last.

“ _J_ _a_ , it’s nice,” Caleb replies, shivering as the wind picks up. “Right by the ocean. I can actually see it now.”

“That sounds nice.” Caleb can hear the smile in his voice as he says it.

“I was thinking,” Caduceus continues, “if it’s nice, maybe Saturday we could go to the park. We’re coming back Friday but it’ll probably be late so I thought Saturday we could hang out.”

“I’d like that. Why don’t you get some sleep?” he says when he hears Caduceus yawn again.

“Okay,” Caduceus murmurs, “Good night, Caleb. Love you.”

Caleb stills, eyes widening and heart skipping.

“O-oh, no, I didn’t,” Caduceus suddenly sounds wide awake, talking rapidly, “I’m sorry, it’s a reflex, I always say it when I’m talking to my family and I’m just tired and I’ve been around them all day and—“ he laughs nervously. “I didn’t, um, I didn’t mean to say that,” he finishes meekly.

“Okay,” Caleb says weakly.

“I’m sorry,” Caduceus groans.

“It’s okay,” Caleb says automatically, only half hearing what he’s saying.

“I, um, I’m going to go to sleep and pretend this was a bad dream.”

“Caduceus, it’s okay,” Caleb says gently, “I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

“Yeah, neither was I,” Caduceus says anxiously. “Did I make this awkward?”

“No, no, it was a simple mistake,” Caleb replies. He’s not entirely sure he believes Caduceus saying he didn’t mean what he’d said, but tackling the alternative isn’t something he thinks he’s quite ready to deal with yet.

“Yeah,” Caduceus says, voice distant. “Well, um, good night, Caleb. Actually, this time.”

Caleb smiles. “Good night, Caduceus.”

He ends the call and quickly goes back inside, crawling under the covers and shifting close to Molly, who sighs in his sleep as Caleb kisses his shoulder and drapes one arm around his waist. He lies awake for a long time thinking about what Caduceus had said, trying to figure out how he would feel about him actually saying it, about Molly saying it, how he would respond. He’s not sure he knows the answer. He eventually falls asleep with his brain still whirring steadily at the thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your wonderful comments, I got sick AGAIN so it helps tremendously having these little pick-me-ups :)
> 
> Have a wonderful week!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly's playlist updated for the chapter; chapter 19 will be coming Sunday :)

He jolts awake some time in the middle of the night, breathing heavily and automatically reaching out for Frumpkin, jumping when his fingers find warm skin rather than fur, Molly stirring awake at the touch.

“What’s wrong?” Molly’s slurred, sleepy voice comes from the dark next to him.

“Nothing,” Caleb mutters, already rubbing his arms up and down his biceps, fingers shaking with the urge to dig his nails into his skin as anxiety barrels through him.

“No, it’s not nothing.” The bed creaks as Molly sits up next to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on Caleb’s back. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Nightmare,” Caleb mumbles, flushing with humiliation. He doesn’t even remember what it had been about, just that it terrified him enough to make him wake up in a cold sweat with goosebumps down his arms.

Molly hums and kisses his shoulder blade. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is thick with sleep but his arms are firm around Caleb’s middle.

“‘M’okay,” Caleb says, laying his hand on top of Molly’s. He closes his eyes and takes a few steadying breaths, focusing on the feeling of Molly solid and present against his back. He leans back into the touch and Molly shifts closer to him, lips finding the back of his neck.

“C’mere, darling,” he murmurs, tugging Caleb back down to lie next to him, holding him against his chest and combing his fingers through his hair soothingly. They lay like this for a few minutes, Caleb resting his ear against Molly’s chest, listening to the thump of his heart, his bare skin soft and warm.

“Better?” Molly says eventually.

“Mm, yeah,” Caleb mumbles, feeling his eyelids start to droop again.

“I’m right here, okay?” Molly whispers, kissing the crown of his head. “Right here, love.”

Caleb cuddles closer to him, wrapping one arm around his waist. He’s not sure how long it takes him to fall back asleep, Molly murmuring reassuringly in his ear and brushing his fingers through his hair, but he doesn’t wake up again until the sun streaming through the curtains is too bright against his eyes, still pressed against Molly’s chest in the same position he’d fallen asleep in.

He knows Molly likely doesn’t think much of it—might not even remember it when he wakes up shortly after Caleb, yawning and stretching and contemplating breakfast aloud—but it makes that same warmth seep out from his chest all the way to his fingertips. He hasn’t had to try and stave off a panic attack without Frumpkin in a long time apart from the last night Molly had seen him like that, and having him again so readily want to help him, to pull him against him and calm him down even though he was half-asleep means so much more to Caleb than he thinks Molly realizes. It’s the unwavering acceptance and affection, the ability to make his heart rate slow back to normal at Molly’s touch that reminds him why he can so easily admit to himself, to Yasha, that he’s falling in love with Molly.

Beau and Molly decide to take the car to a nearby market to get groceries and breakfast for the four of them, Caleb watching warily as Yasha digs through the cupboards for a pair of scissors when Molly insists she take the opportunity to cut Caleb’s hair. She sits him down in one of the dining room chairs when she finds the scissors, laying a towel around his shoulders.

“How short do you want it?” she asks as she begins wetting his hair with a damp cloth, dragging a comb through when she’s finished with a spot.

“Um, just a couple inches shorter I think? Oh, wait,” he pulls out his phone and finds the picture of him and Nott he’d sent to Caduceus. “Like this?”

Yasha looks over his shoulder at the picture and nods.

“Okay,” she says simply. She brushes Caleb’s hair a few more times before methodically gathering up sections of hair and snipping them deftly. She’s been at it for a few minutes when Caleb is starting to feel antsy with the silence.

“So, you cut Molly’s hair as well?” he says.

“Mm,” Yasha hums, “I did it for a lot of people at the home. Kind of became my thing, though I’m not sure how.”

Caleb laughs quietly.

“Did you grow up there?” he says carefully, “Molly just said you met there. If you don’t want to talk—“

“No, it’s okay,” Yasha says, pausing with some of Caleb’s hair pulled taut between her fingers. “I got there soon after Molly. My parents kicked me out when they found out I had a girlfriend.”

“O-oh… I’m so sorry, Yasha.” Something cold and unpleasant worms its way into Caleb’s chest. His parents had been a little confused when he’d come out to them a few years ago, but they’d always been accepting.

Yasha shrugs and continues cutting his hair. “They were assholes,” she says, tone flat. “When I met Molly, he was very quiet, it took him awhile to come out of his shell.”

“Molly? Quiet?”

Yasha chuckles.

“Hard to believe, I know,” she says, “but we clicked very quickly. When… when my girlfriend died he was the closest thing to family I had. I’ll always be grateful that he was there, I’m not sure what I would have done without him.”

She pauses, lowering the scissors, and Caleb takes the opportunity to turn and look at her with a mix of incredulity and sympathy.

“Oh my god, Yasha, I—that’s awful.”

She smiles a little sadly. “It was a long time ago,” she says softly, “she had been sick for awhile. But she was always a happy person so I try not to be too sad about it, I know she would not want me to be.”

Caleb turns back around as she raises the scissors again.

“Molly is also a happy person,” she continues fondly, “I think that is why I was so drawn to him. He reminded me of her, I think.” Caleb smiles, allowing her to tilt his head forward so she can continue cutting.

“Yasha,” Caleb says hesitantly, “it may not be my place to say this but if she, if—“

“Zuala.”

“If Zuala would not want you to be sad,” Caleb continues, “would she… would she not also want you to let yourself be happy?” Yasha’s fingers still in his hair and he soldiers on nervously. “I am the same way, I thought for a long time I did not deserve letting myself have something like this but lucky for me I have friends who will not let me believe that it’s true... and it’s not true for you either.

“I know she is headstrong and a little brash, but Beauregard is a good person. Her heart is in the right place at very least, even if her head can be bit hot sometimes.

“Sorry,” he says hastily when Yasha is silent, “I shouldn’t have—“

“No,” Yasha says softly, “it’s okay.”

He glances back at her and she smiles at him, still with that edge of sadness but the most genuine smile he’s received from her. Caleb returns her smile briefly before facing forward again as she returns to clipping his hair in comfortable silence.

“All done,” she says a few minutes later, brushing at the back of Caleb’s neck before pulling the towel away carefully so the loose hair falls to the floor. He runs his fingers through his hair apprehensively, sighing in relief when it feels appropriately short, falling to his jawline.

“Thank you,” he says, glancing back at Yasha as she heads to the kitchen and tosses the scissors in the sink.

“Thank _you_ ,” she replies, not looking up at him but smiling faintly as she fetches a broom to sweep the floor.

Caleb takes it from her, sweeping up around the chair and dumping the dust pan into the trash as they hear Beau and Molly climbing up the stairs outside.

“We’re back!” Molly calls unnecessarily as Beau pushes the door open, huffing with the effort of lugging in the bags of groceries. Yasha moves to help her, hefting them onto the counter easily and beginning to unpack them into the refrigerator.

“Oh my god, darling, you look wonderful,” Molly says excitedly, setting his bags down to brush his fingers through Caleb’s hair and grinning. He glances at Yasha, “You did a good job.” He turns back to Caleb, biting his lip and tilting his head to the side in consideration. “Very handsome.”

Caleb flushes happily at the compliment, accepting the kiss Molly presses to his cheek before helping his set his own bags up on counter and sifting through them.

“Half of this is beer,” he observe, frowning.

“Hey, we got food,” Beau says defensively, gesturing to the eggs and bacon Yasha is setting in the otherwise barren fridge.

“I’m making breakfast tomorrow,” Molly says as he hops up onto the counter, pulling contents from the bags to pass to Yasha.

“You can cook?” Beau says doubtfully.

“Breakfast foods,” Molly corrects her. “Yasha may have done the haircuts but when you’re feeding a dozen little brats at six in the morning before school, you learn to be a short order cook fast.”

“Huh.” Beau pulls a donut from the bag Molly had brought in and eats half of it in one bite, swallowing hugely before saying, “So what are we doing today?”

“I saw a pub last night on the boardwalk,” Molly says, accepting the donut Beau offers him. “We’re definitely going there tonight.”

They end up spending the day walking the beach and boardwalk again, Molly and Beau braving sticking their bare feet in the frigid water and betting who can stay in the longest—Beau wins, throwing up her arms in triumph, teeth chattering and lips turning blue while Molly walks shivering and grumbling back onto the shore. It’s strange, doing essentially nothing after Caleb feels like he’s spent the last few months barreling forward between classes and his ever-evolving relationships with Molly and Caduceus. But it’s a welcome change of pace, sitting next to Yasha in the cool sand under the clouded sky, watching Molly and Beau search for seashells and skipping out of the way of the waves as they wash up around their feet.

Nott sends him a few pictures of Frumpkin throughout the day, reassuring him that he is well-fed and taken care of and asking how he’s doing. He doesn’t receive anything from Caduceus, and he wonders if it’s due to him simply being busy as he’d said he would be or because of their conversation the night before.

He’s still not entirely sure how he feels about it, either the idea of Caduceus saying it unintentionally and not meaning it or of him meaning it but simply not meaning to say it. The idea of love still scares him, still makes him feel skittish at the concept that feels like such a commitment, especially given he’s feeling the same things for both Molly and Caduceus. Deep down a part of him knows that he’s going to have to make a decision at some point, stop being so selfish, but he continues to squash the prospect down, ignore it rather than deal with it head on.

They make their way to the pub after cobbling together a meal from the groceries Beau and Molly bought, Beau downing two of the beers from the fridge before they leave—”pre-game,” she explains as she polishes off the second beer, “it’s gonna be way more expensive there”.

It’s warmly lit inside the pub, with half the room dedicated to the restaurant and the other half dominated by the long, polished wooden bar. They take seats at the bar and pass their IDs to the bartender, who eyes Molly’s suspiciously for a few extra seconds before handing it back, Molly flashing a winning smile and winking at him in a way that Caleb knows is meant to be cheeky but still makes something sullen and unfamiliar stir in his chest that he hasn’t felt since seeing the man flirt with Molly at the bar so many weeks ago.

“Do you have anything other than beer?” Molly says when the bartender returns with four foaming pint glasses of dark beer. Molly laces his fingers together and rests his chin on them, leaning forward. “Something sweeter, maybe?”

The bartender stares at him for a few seconds, expression bored, before reaching under the counter and pulling up a bottle of Irish cream liqueur and pouring out a shot, which he upturns into Molly’s beer, the dark liquid clouding with the liqueur.

“Thank you,” Molly says, smiling coolly and pulling a face as soon as the bartender turns around. He takes an experimental sip, perking up. “That’s actually not half bad. Cheers.” He raises his glass and takes another long gulp.

The bar slowly fills around them and they soon have to raise their voices to be heard over the growing din of talk and clatter of cutlery in combination with the music being played overhead. Caleb is on his second beer, sipping it silently as he watches Molly chat animatedly with Yasha, Beau swaying a little in her seat as she stares dreamily at Yasha, chin propped on her fist, when his phone rings in his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters hastily when he realizes it’s Caduceus calling, swearing under his breath at forgetting his promise to be available. He slides off his stool as he answers the call, pressing the phone to his ear and covering the other one with his hand. “Hello? Caduceus?”

“Hey!” Caduceus says brightly. “Wow, it’s loud where you are.”

“Yeah, sorry, we went out for a drink,” Caleb replies, grimacing as Molly laughs loudly at something behind him.

“Oh,” Caduceus seems to deflate at this, “Oh, um, should I call back?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Caleb says hastily. “I told you I would be available no matter what.”

“Alright,” Caduceus says, still sounding wary.

“What have you been up to today?” Caleb asks quickly, walking a few more steps down the bar away from the others.

“We went down to the lake, did some wedding prep stuff, Clara wanted to see everyone’s outfits and make sure they fit, that sort of thing.”

Caleb is pleased to hear the smile return to his voice as he talks. He slips into an alcove near the entrance, leaning against the wall and savoring the sound of his voice, low and calming.

“Mm, and you are all still alive, I take it?”

Caduceus laughs. “There were a few close calls, but, yeah, still alive.”

“Is that Caleb?”

“Oh, I want to talk to him!”

“No, go awa—”

There’s a scuffle on the other end of the phone, Caleb frowning as he hears Caduceus say something that’s muffled and distant as something presses against the microphone.

“Hi, Caleb!” an unfamiliar, cheery voice says.

“Um, hello,” he replies apprehensively. “Who is this?”

“Oh, Clara, he _does_ have a nice accent,” the voice calls loudly, Caleb pulling away from the receiver briefly.

“See!” he hears Claribel reply in the background.

“Clara, get off of me!”

“I’m back,” a voice he assumes now is Corrin says.

“Okay…” Caleb clears his throat awkwardly. “Um, could I talk to Caduceus?”

“In a minute, geez,” Corrin says, scoffing. “So, you’re his boyfriend, huh?”

“I—yes, I am.”

“So are you guys like in love or whatever?”

Caleb laughs nervously. “I, um, I am not sure I—”

“Whatever, that’s not important,” Corrin interrupts him, voice lowering threateningly, “what’s important is that you know that he has a very big, very protective family, and that if we find out you hurt him, we already have a graveyard at our disposal and we’ve hidden bodies before.”

Caleb feels the blood drain from his face.

Corrin laughs loudly. “I’m just kidding!” she says. “God, so damn serious, no wonder you’re dating Cad. Alright, I’ll give you back to him, nice talking to you, Caleb!”

The phone crackles and rustles again and he hears Claribel laughing before Caduceus’ voice returns.

“You can both go to hell,” he says, voice distant like he’s holding the phone away from his face. “Caleb, ignore whatever she said.”

“Okay,” Caleb says weakly, still recovering from having his life threatened—jokingly or not—by a teenager.

“What _did_ she say?” Caduceus says suspiciously.

“Something about a graveyard and hiding bodies,” Caleb replies absently.

Caduceus huffs in irritation. “You sure you still want to meet them?”

Caleb laughs at this, some of the tension dissipating when Caduceus chuckles as well.

“They haven’t stopped talking about it since I got here,” he says wearily. “You’d think a wedding would be more exciting but apparently not.” He sighs heavily. “Oh! I’ve been reading that book you picked out for me!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there’s a whole section about the cultivation of tea that’s really interesting,” Caduceus says eagerly. “Some of the technical stuff is a little over my head but I really like it so far.”

Caleb smiles at the enthusiasm in his voice.

“See?” he says, “You were just reading the wrong books.”

Caduceus hums quietly, the silence stretching comfortably between them for a few long seconds.

“Caleb?”

“Hm?”

Caduceus clears his throat, exhaling a long breath.

“Um, what I said last night—”

“It’s okay,” Caleb says, “I know you didn’t mean—”

“No, that’s not… that’s not it.” He sighs again. “I don’t… I don’t really want to have this discussion on the phone but I can’t lie to you again, Caleb. I didn’t mean to say it but… that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it. I _do_ love you, Caleb.”

The air rushes sharply out of Caleb’s lungs as he says it, his fingers tightening around the phone and his heart thudding almost painfully in his chest.

“And… and I don’t expect you to say it back,” Caduceus continues, “And I’m sorry for dropping this on you now instead of waiting until next week. But I said it because it’s true, and I don’t want to pretend it’s not anymore. Just… just don’t feel obligated to say it or to feel the same way. I know it’s probably too soon to say it but…” He pauses and Caleb hears him take an unsteady breath. “But I love you, Caleb. And I won’t say it again if it makes you uncomfortable, I just wanted to be honest with you.”

Caleb is silent for a long minute, trying to process the declaration, trying to decide how he’s supposed to feel about it. A part of him feels giddy, elated at the confirmation, but another part of him wants to shrink in on himself and pretend he didn’t hear it, pretend that things aren’t as serious as they really are, not as simple as he’s been pretending they are.

“Okay,” he says at last, swallowing to wet his throat. “I, um… I am sorry, Caduceus, I cannot… I cannot say it back yet.”

“Yet?” Caduceus says so hopefully it makes his chest hurt.

“Yes, yet,” Caleb says, nodding though Caduceus can’t see it. “Caduceus, I won’t lie to you, it… it scares me a little bit. Not you, not being with you, but… feeling this way. But I think… I _know_ that I would like to be able to say it back to you in the future. Soon. I just need to… wrap my own head around it, I think.”

Caduceus releases a shuddering, relieved laugh.

“Okay,” he says softly, “I’ll take it. And I won’t say it again until you’re ready.”

“We can talk more when we get back,” Caleb promises.

“Yeah,” Caduceus agrees. “I’d like that.” He sighs, the sound trailing off into a laugh that’s more a huff of air than anything. “I, uh, I’ll let you get back to your evening, yeah?”

“Okay,” Caleb replies, smiling. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Caduceus bids him good night and the call ends. Caleb leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, breathing out harshly and pressing his phone against his chest, feeling his heart hammering under his fingers.

Caduceus loves him.

 _Loves him_.

He opens his eyes and leans out of the alcove to look back to where Molly is seated with the girls, catching his eye and smiling when Molly beams and blows him a kiss, winking before turning back to face Yasha again. He thinks back again to what Molly had said about maybe being in love, about how closed-off he’d been the day before after riding the Ferris wheel. Is that what he’d actually wanted to say to Caleb? Has he been ignoring the obvious cues or is he reading too much into things because of his own changing feelings? It’s hard to think with his brain slowly fogging with alcohol, leaving him feel loose and more abstractly worried than he thinks he would be if he was fully sober.

He takes another minute to compose himself before pocketing his phone and making his way back to the others, frowning when he sees his seat is now occupied by another man who is currently leaning against the bar talking to Molly, who is nodding and looking politely interested in whatever he’s saying. The man reaches out to touch Molly’s hand where it’s laying on the bar and Caleb feels that ugly, jealous thing in his chest roar to life again, egged on by the alcohol pulsing in his blood. He strides across the bar towards where Molly is sitting, hearing him laugh lightly as he pulls his hand back from the man.

“Oh, hello, darling, I was wondering when you’d— _mmph_!” he lets out a muffled noise of shock, eyes widening when Caleb grips the back of his head and kisses him. He relaxes almost immediately, hungrily returning the kiss and clamping his hand on Caleb’s shoulder to steady himself. He’s breathing heavily when Caleb pulls away, looking dazed and bewildered.

“He’s taken,” Caleb says, glowering at the man still occupying his seat, his arm wrapping around Molly’s shoulders protectively.

“My mistake,” the man replies with an almost disinterested shrug. He peers passed Molly and Yasha to Beau. “What about you? Can I buy you a drink?”

“Eh, you’re not my type,” Beau says, shaking her head and pulling a face.

The man purses his lip, looking vaguely annoyed but still sliding off Caleb’s seat and walking off.

“Darling,” Molly says, lifting an eyebrow curiously.  “Were you _jealous_?”

Caleb grunts noncommittally, feeling embarrassed at his reaction to something so benign. Molly grins almost wickedly, slipping his arm around Caleb’s shoulders and putting his lips close to his ear.

“I thought it was hot, for the record,” he murmurs. He leans back against the bar, giving Caleb an appraising look before reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet, tossing enough cash on the bar to cover his and Caleb’s beers.

“Caleb is pretty tired,” he says, giving Caleb a significant look. “Why don’t you two stay here and we’ll head out?”

“What a bore, it’s not even ten,” Beau complains, voice slurred from her four beers.

“ _J_ _a,_ that’s me,” Caleb’s eyes are fixed on Molly as he says it, matching his impatient gaze. “Total wet blanket.”

“Yasha and I will have fun, right, Yasha?” Beau pats halfway up Yasha’s bicep.

“Actually,” Yasha says, half-glancing at Caleb, “would you like to go for a walk, Beau?”

Caleb watches Beau’s eyes slowly widen and her already flushed face darken as Yasha’s words seem to sink in.

“Oh, um, yeah, okay, uh, sure,” she stammers, nodding and giving Caleb a terrified look the second Yasha turns to pay for her and Beau’s drinks. She clambers off her stool to Caleb’s side, gripping his arm like a vice and steering him a few steps away.

“Caleb,” she hisses, “ _what does that mean_?”

“I think it means you’re going to go for a walk,” Caleb replies, amused, “You know, left foot, right foot, repeat?”

She glances back at Yasha, looking faintly hysterical.

“Just calm down,” Caleb says, biting back a laugh, “talk to her, act like a normal human being, as hard as it may be for you.”

She doesn’t seem to catch the dig, quickly adjusting her top knot and straightening her jacket as Yasha and Molly join them.

“Ready?” Yasha says, offering Beau a faint smile. Caleb watches her swallow and nod timidly, flashing him another nervous look before following Yasha a little unsteadily out of the bar.

“Well that should give us at least an hour or two,” Molly says lightly. He takes Caleb’s hand in his own, smirking. “Think we can make that work?” 

Heat pulses low in Caleb’s gut at the suggestion in his voice and he readily permits Molly to lead him out of the bar and back in the direction of the house. It’s dark and quiet inside, the distant sound of the boardwalk muffled as soon as Caleb shuts the door behind him. He moves into the kitchen, feeling Molly’s eyes on him.

“Would you like something to drink?” Caleb asks as he opens the fridge and peers into it, taking a beer for himself. He’s still pleasantly tipsy, that warm, loose feeling settled in his limbs.  
  
“Mm, no I’m good.” Molly hops up to sit on the edge of the counter, legs dangling over the side.  
  
Caleb pops the cap off his beer on the lip of the counter, taking a swig as he moves to stand in front of Molly, who leans towards him with a smirk.  
  
“That’s a cute trick,” he murmurs. He grips Caleb by the collar and pulls him into a lazy kiss. He breaks away with a soft, wet smack, grinning as he spreads his legs so he can tug Caleb those last few steps forward between them.  
  
Molly bites his bottom lip and slides his hands up Caleb’s chest and over his shoulders. He takes Caleb’s beer from his hand and sets it on the counter beside him.  
  
“I think there are better things you could be doing with your mouth than drinking that,” Molly purrs, tilting Caleb’s face up with one finger under his chin.  
  
“You think?” Caleb skims his hands up Molly’s thighs, their faces so close their noses bump together.  
  
Molly chuckles and captures his lips in another slow, unhurried kiss. He sighs, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss and letting his tongue slip into Caleb’s mouth. He sucks Caleb’s bottom lip between his own, biting down softly and sending a brief shock of pain through him. Caleb groans at the sensation and kisses him harder, his fingers digging into Molly’s thighs.  
  
Molly presses a lingering, closed-mouth kiss to his lips before pulling away just enough to meet Caleb’s eyes.  
  
“There’s something even better you could do with that pretty mouth,” he murmurs. Caleb quirks an eyebrow in question and Molly pokes his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he slips his leg out from under Caleb’s hand and lifts it to hook over his shoulder with an easy flexibility that Caleb is definitely interested in exploring. He pushes down on Caleb’s shoulder and Caleb laughs quietly and sinks to his knees. He tilts his head back so he can look at Molly from his new vantage point, watching him tap his finger against his lips in consideration.  
  
“I could definitely get used to this view,” he says. He loops his other leg around Caleb’s shoulders and tightens them both, forcing Caleb to shuffle closer on his knees so his face is nearly pressed into his crotch. Caleb can see the outline of his erection through his pants.  
  
Caleb keeps his eyes on Molly’s as he palms the hard line of his cock, mouthing wetly at the head. Molly’s mouth falls open in a groan at the touch, eyelashes fluttering closed. Caleb unbuttons Molly’s pants and tugs down the zipper, Molly watching him through hooded eyes as he pulls his cock free and wraps one hand around the base.  
  
Caleb presses a kiss to the tip, drags his tongue over Molly’s frenulum before taking the head into his mouth and sucking lightly. Molly bites his bottom lip and combs his fingers through Caleb’s hair.  
  
“Good boy,” he breathes, his heels digging into Caleb’s back. Caleb pulls off with a soft pop, glad he’s already kneeling as his legs go weak at the praise. Molly rubs his thumb over Caleb’s lower lip, coaxes his mouth open and lets out a pleased hum as he guides the head of his cock back into Caleb’s mouth.  
  
“Such a good a boy,” he murmurs, caressing his fingers down Caleb’s cheek as he sucks obediently, whimpering as his dick twitches painfully at Molly’s words. Molly tastes clean and salty against his tongue, the smell of him so sharp and intoxicating he takes him deeper into his mouth just to get closer to it.  
  
“You like that?” Molly says, grinning delightedly. “Oh, darling, you are something else.” He trails his fingers over Caleb’s temple, down his cheek, along his lower lip where it’s stretched around him.  
  
“You know what I want you to do?” he whispers, “I want you to take me to bed and I want you to fuck me. Would you like that, darling?”  
  
Caleb groans and nods eagerly, wincing at how painfully hard he is when Molly hasn’t even touched him. Molly hauls him up by his collar and kisses him roughly, pushing up the hem of his sweater and running one hand greedily over his stomach while the other fumbles open the button of his jeans so he can slip his fingers into Caleb’s boxers and wrap them around his erection. Caleb swears softly and drops his head to Molly’s shoulder, biting hard on his lower lip when his knees buckle.

“Take me upstairs,” Molly breathes, thumb pressing into the sensitive tip and pulling a moan from him. “And _fuck me_.”

Caleb nods automatically, kissing him once, twice, whining as Molly squeezes his dick, before stepping back and allowing Molly to slide off the counter. They stumble upstairs, Molly pushing Caleb down onto the bed as soon as they’re next to it and standing over him with a devious smirk.

“Get undressed,” he says lowly, tone even but still commanding in a way that makes Caleb shiver.

Molly watches silently as he kicks off his shoes and socks and yanks his sweater over his head. He stands up to pull off his jeans and boxers, wrapping his arms around himself self-consciously when Molly’s eyes sweep up and down his body as he realizes it’s the first time he’s actually been fully naked in front of him.

“Put your arms down,” Molly says, brushing his fingertips down Caleb’s sternum when he obeys. “Good boy.”

Caleb exhales shakily through his nose, eyes fluttering shut briefly as another pleasant tremor goes through him. Molly touches lightly at the freckles dotting his chest, drawing a line between a few of them before dropping his hand back to his side.

“Now undress me,” he says almost lazily.

Caleb begins clumsily unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, pausing when he gets to the third button and sees something black against Molly’s skin under the fabric of his shirt.

“I put it on after dinner,” Molly explains, almost smugly. “I figured we’d be getting up to certain… activities tonight.”

Caleb wets his lips, hurrying to open the rest of the buttons, something shorting in his brain at the fact that Molly had been sitting in a corset for the past few hours without him knowing. Molly shrugs the shirt off his shoulders when Caleb undoes the last button, letting it drop to the floor behind him as he watches Caleb through hooded eyes.

Caleb swallows, trailing his fingers delicately over the silky ribbon tying off the corset just above the waistline of Molly’s pants. It’s different from the one he’d seen him wear previously, no straps over his shoulders, the hem instead ending just below his pectorals, strips of lace and silk pulled taut and hugging the slight curve of his waist.

“ _Verdammt_ ,” he breathes weakly, shaping his hands over Molly’s waist, sliding them over the satiny fabric and tugging experimentally on the ribbon, Molly gasping lightly as he’s forced forward a half step and the fabric is pulled tighter around his torso.  

Caleb tries to kiss him, whining when Molly stops him with a finger to his lips.

“You didn’t finish undressing me,” he murmurs, pushing on Caleb’s shoulder to ease him down onto the edge of the mattress. He lifts one foot up to rest on the bed between Caleb’s legs, watching mildly as Caleb tugs his shoe and sock off. He runs his hands reverently up Molly’s calf, kisses the inside of his knee, closes his eyes and shudders when Molly presses his foot lightly against his cock.

Molly silently pulls his foot away, planting it back on the floor to lift the other so Caleb can slip off his other shoe. He blinks dazedly up at Molly when he cradles his chin in one hand, drags his thumb over his bottom lip before pushing it into his mouth. Caleb sucks it in greedily, hollowing out his cheeks and groaning.

“Good,” Molly whispers, combing his fingers through Caleb’s hair. “Will you lie on the bed for me, darling?”

Caleb nods as Molly pulls his thumb free, cocking his head to the side to watch Caleb crawl back on the mattress to lie against the pillows. Molly pushes his pants down—he’s not wearing any underwear—and steps out of them much more elegantly than Caleb had, Caleb’s eyes flicking down to his cock before raking up his corseted waist again. He reaches out automatically to run his hands over the gentle curve when Molly climbs onto the bed and straddles his hips, Caleb’s cock resting against his ass when he sits, legs bent under him on either side of Caleb’s waist.

“I did something else after dinner,” Molly murmurs, smirking as he takes one of Caleb’s hands from where it’s resting on his waist and guiding it behind him. Caleb lets his fingers slip down passed his tail and over his ass between the firm flesh.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes shakily when his fingers touch slick warmth.

“Got myself ready for you,” Molly says, smirk widening at Caleb’s astonishment. His eyes slide closed with a please hum when Caleb pushes his middle finger into him. Molly yields easily, slick and pliant, and Caleb watches him bite his lip and tip his head back with a sigh as he thrusts his finger in and out.

Molly shudders when he adds his index finger, his back arching and his hands pressing flat against Caleb’s stomach. Caleb swears under his breath at the fact that he left the condoms in his bag. He needs to fuck Molly, hasn’t been this turned on in as long as he can remember, and the thought of pausing this to dig through his bag feels like ruining the moment.

“Ah, Molly,” he says reluctantly, “I need to get my bag.”

Molly opens his eyes, smiling faintly. He leans down toward Caleb, hands sliding up his chest, and Caleb automatically lifts his head from the pillow expectantly to kiss him. But then Molly is slipping his hand under the pillow and sitting up again, grinning coyly and holding up a condom and a bottle of lube.

“You think too little of me, darling,” he says, clicking his tongue and sticking his lower lip out in a pout. He sets the lube on the bed and tears open the condom packet, reaching behind himself to roll it smoothly onto Caleb’s cock, eyes fixed on Caleb’s face. He pours lube into his palm and pumps his fist over Caleb’s cock to spread it, chuckling when Caleb swears and pushes his hips up into the touch.

“So impatient,” he murmurs.

He raises up on his knees and Caleb grips his hips hard, heat throbbing through him in anticipation as Molly holds the base of his dick in one hand and slowly sinks down onto it, mouth falling open in a gasp that trails into a whine as he lowers himself fully.

Caleb’s fingers dig into Molly’s hips, eyes rolling back at the hot pressure around his cock. He bends his knees slightly, pressing his feet into the mattress as he pushes his hips up to chase the feeling and Molly whines and clenches around him. Caleb settles back on the sheets again, trembling with the effort not to thrust up into that wonderful heat again, not to flip Molly over and fuck him into the mattress.

“Mm,” Molly hums, the muscles in his face twitching almost imperceptibly as he adjusts himself. “Mm, _fuck_ , you feel good, Caleb.”

He shifts back slightly, gasping quietly as the movement makes Caleb sink further into him. He plants one hand on Caleb’s stomach, the other reaching behind him to rest on Caleb’s thigh, before raising up a few inches and sinking back down again. He repeats the movement, thighs trembling and fingernails digging into Caleb’s skin as he picks up a rhythm, rolling his hips and fucking himself on Caleb’s cock. His tail whips back and forth restless before curling tightly around Caleb’s leg, coiling up his thigh.

Caleb runs his hands up his cinched waist to hold him steady, digging his heels into the bed to rock his hips up to match him, Molly choking out a groan and arching back when Caleb thrusts up into him as he’s sinking his hips down. Molly tilts his head back, eyes rolling up and mouth falling open as his body moves in a long, fluid line, his cock slapping lightly against Caleb’s stomach with each sinuous roll of his hips.

Molly stills after a few minutes, breathing heavily, and whining when Caleb continues rocking his hips up, gliding his hands up Molly’s thighs and wrapping one around his cock to pump it lazily.

“I want you to fuck me from behind,” Molly pants, wetting his lips as he looks up at Caleb through heavy-lidded eyes, his face flush from arousal and exertion and sweat glistening on his forehead. “Will you do that?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes,” Caleb groans, helping Molly ease off of him and sitting up. He watches as Molly lies in his stomach, resting on his forearms and tucking his legs under him to arch his back and lift his ass into the air, his tail curling up and swishing lazily.

“ _Scheisse_ , look at you,” Caleb murmurs, sliding his hands up the back of Molly’s thighs and palming his ass. He drips more lube onto his fingers, pushing two of them into Molly and savoring the low, needy moan he makes, muffled by the sheets as he presses his face into the mattress.

Caleb curls his fingers inside him, Molly shivering and clenching around him. He thrusts his fingers in and out a few time before coating himself with more lube and sliding back into him again with a groan. He holds Molly’s hips in place with one hand, trailing the other along the long curve of his spine as he drives his hips forward. Curling his hand around the base of Molly’s tail, he squeezes experimentally, swearing under his breath when Molly bows his spine even more sharply, hips pushing back and a keening whine spilling from him.

Caleb settles both hands on Molly’s waist, marveling at the way the corset hugs his lithe frame, how the black looks against his skin. He leans back, groaning at the way Molly stretches around his cock as he sinks into him, the dull smack of skin and the muted gasps from Molly each time Caleb thrusts forward.  

Pushing Molly’s coiling tail to the side, Caleb drapes himself over his back, wrapping his arms around his chest and mouthing at his shoulder blade. He grunts softly and scrapes his teeth over Molly’s back, brushing his thumb over his nipple, his breath coming out in hot, sharp pants against Molly sweat-slick skin. The hungry, animalistic thing in his chest rears up again and he tightens his arms around Molly, slamming his hips forward so hard it shifts Molly a few inches forward.

“You’re mine, aren't you?” he murmurs, “All mine.”

“Fuck, Caleb, _fuck, yes,_ ” Molly whines beneath him, “All yours. Fuck, ‘m’gonna come, _shit_.”

“Wait,” Caleb gasps, stilling his hips despite Molly’s whimper of protest, his hips rocking back needily. “ _Mm,_ I want to see your face.”

He slips out of him with a groan, helping him turn over onto his back, his legs falling open wide, inviting, and hips tilted up. Molly groans and curves his spine off the mattress when Caleb sinks back into him smoothly.

He grips Molly’s thighs and hikes his legs up so his ankles are hooked loosely over his shoulders. He watches Molly’s face as he thrusts harder into him, the bed creaking and thumping against the wall beneath them. Each time he sinks fully into him is punctuated by a soft, gasping whine from Molly. He looks positively debauched, chest heaving and skin slick with sweat, arms flung over his head against the pillows and face contorted with pleasure.  
  
Caleb slides his fingers up the back of Molly’s thighs and pushes them forward experimentally. He follows them down when they give easily, hands coming to rest in the pillows so his arms are caging Molly’s head.  
  
“Ah, _Verdammt_ ,” he mumbles, half in disbelief, half arousal.  
  
Molly is practically folded in half beneath him, his knees at his shoulders and his feet hooked behind Caleb’s head. Caleb groans at the change in position, dropping his forehead to Molly’s collarbone and panting.  
  
“How are you real?” he mutters into the side of Molly’s throat, the skin vibrating against his lips as Molly laughs.  
  
“I told you I was flexible,” he replies, looking smug. His expression goes lax, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in a shuddering moan as Caleb fucks into him roughly.  
  
Caleb kisses him, desperate and uncoordinated with how hard he’s breathing, how close his orgasm is. He licks his palm sloppily and works his hand between them to wrap his fingers around Molly cock, licking greedily into his mouth when he groans and tightens his legs around him.

“Caleb,” he pants, “Caleb, I’m gonna—“

“Come on,” Caleb murmurs encouragingly, pressing his forehead against Molly’s and wetting his lips. “Come for me, Molly.”

Molly’s mouth falls open in a silent, choked gasp, brow furrowing and muscles tensing as his cock jerks in Caleb’s hand and he comes across his stomach between them.

“ _F_ _uck_ ,” he whispers brokenly, legs squeezing around Caleb’s shoulders and hands gripping his arms hard. He shudders and goes limp, panting heavily and whining as Caleb continues to piston his hips unsteadily, his own orgasm fast approaching.

“ _Mm_ , almost, _Schatz_ ,” he mutters, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Molly warm and tight around his cock. He bites his lip, grunting softly as he presses flush to Molly’s ass and comes into the condom, heat blooming bright and sharp and flooding his veins.

He stays there for a few seconds, panting and allowing the dizzying pleasure to wash over him even after his cock has stopped twitching and the pressure has eased.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Molly whines.

Caleb laughs weakly, turning his head to the side to absently kiss Molly’s temple, more a wet brush of lips than anything in his dazed state. He eases Molly’s legs from around his shoulders as he sits up, kissing the inside of his thigh before letting them drop onto the bed on either side of him. He slips off the condom carefully, tying the end and leaning over the bed to drop it into the trash can, making a note to discard of it more discreetly later.

Molly grins up at him, looking as punch drunk as Caleb feels. The fringe of his hair is damp with sweat, the jewelry on his horns crooked and tangled, his lips swollen from kissing. He glances down and groans in distress, wiping some of his own come from his corset where it’s seeping slowly into the delicate fabric.

“Well that’s ruined,” he sighs sadly, though his grin returns quickly. “Worth it.”

“It is just for us now, _ja_?” Caleb says, reaching down to untie the ribbon lacing the corset shut and loosening it. Molly lets out a heavy breath when the fabric falls open across his stomach, wincing a little.

“Thank god,” he gasps, rubbing a hand over his ribs. “I don’t think these were intended to be used when you’re being turned into a pretzel.”

Caleb laughs and helps him pull the ribbon free so the corset can open fully, exposing his bare torso and the lines in his skin where it had dug into his rib cage. Caleb lowers himself down to drop a row of soothing kisses to the spot before lying down on his stomach, folding his arms across Molly’s waist and resting his chin on them to gaze up at him.

Molly tucks one arm behind his head so he can look down at him. He smiles and brushes his fingers absently through Caleb’s hair. He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head when Caleb gives him a questioning look.

“It's just… how angry do you think Beau would be knowing we fucked in her parents’ bed?”

Caleb groans and buries his face in Molly’s hip, laughing and shaking his head as he peers back up at him.

“I mean, she hates them anyway,” Molly considers, “maybe that’s why she gave us this room in the first place.”

“She told me it’s because she was afraid to share a bed with Yasha,” Caleb says, now absently tracing the lines of Molly’s tattoos with his index finger.

Molly snorts. “Sounds about right,” he says. “Speaking of,” he glances at the clock on the bedside table and grimaces. “They might be back soon. Should we make ourselves decent?”

“Mm, five more minutes,” Caleb mumbles, resting his head on Molly’s stomach and closing his eyes contentedly as Molly’s fingers continue their slow brushing of his hair.

“Alright,” Molly laughs, gaze softening as Caleb tilts his head to look up at him.

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” Caleb mumbles, fingers now playing across Molly’s ribs.

“Oh?” Molly says, grinning again. “Am I that good in bed?”

Caleb hums, pushing himself onto his hands and knees again but keeping his mouth lowered to press a kiss to Molly’s navel.

“You _are_ very good at that,” he murmurs. “But you’re also beautiful—” he kisses the bottom of Molly’s rib cage, “—clever—“ just over his heart, “—kind—“ his collarbone, “—generous—“ under his jaw, “—and I am very lucky.” He presses his lips to Molly’s softly, smiling when he lets out a pleased hum.

“Mm, yeah you are,” Molly teases, cupping the back of his head to hold him there so he can continue kissing him lazily. He sighs, smiling and whispering, “Me too.”

Caleb rests his forehead against Molly’s, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the proximity to him, Molly’s breath fanning warm across his skin. He shivers a little when air begins to feel cool against his heated, sweaty skin. Molly’s phone pings where it’s sitting on the nightstand and he picks it up, squinting against the brightness of his screen in the dark.

“They’re on their way back,” he says, lips twitching up and head tilting to the side when Caleb begins kissing up the side of his neck. “Beau says we better be dressed when they get here.”

Caleb chuckles, pressing a final kiss below Molly’s ear before pushing himself up and sliding off the bed. He digs through the dresser for a clean t-shirt and boxers, tugging them on and watching Molly stand and stretch out of the corner of his eye, rubbing the base of his spine just above his tail.

Molly pulls on underwear and a t-shirt and begins the slow process of untangling and removing the jewelry from his horns, smiling when Caleb moves to help him, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bed and crawling up to sit behind him.

“You think they hooked up?” Molly says as Caleb passes him a charm he thinks must be new, not remembering it from the last time he’d done this, a little silver chain with a blue-jeweled cat’s paw print dangling from it that loops through one of the holes in his horn. “Beau and Yasha, I mean.”

“Hm, I think Beauregard would not be so coherent in her scolding you if that were the case,” Caleb replies.

Molly snorts. “Yeah, you’re probably right. And she called _us_ ridiculous.” He turns his head to the side to look back at Caleb, smiling fondly.

“Yasha told me about Zuala,” Caleb says, kneading his fingertips into Molly’s lower back when he’s finished removing the last charm, Molly sighing appreciatively when he does, “I think Beauregard could be good for her.”

“Did she?” Molly says, looking surprised. He smiles when Caleb nods. “I’m glad, she needs to talk to more people about it, she’s usually so closed off.”

They both pause as they hear the door open downstairs, followed by Beau’s cry of, “You better both have clothes on!”

“We should probably go down before they think we’re up to no good up here,” Molly murmurs, leaning back into him to catch his lips in a kiss before pushing himself to his feet and calling out, “We do now!” He smirks at Beau’s loud, “Gross!” in response.

Molly heads down the stairs, Caleb pausing as his phone vibrates from the pocket of his jeans and digging it out before following after him. There’s a message from Caduceus from twenty minutes before, no text but a heart and a picture. Caleb feels a stab of hot guilt as he opens it, his stomach knotting with shame at the sight of a clump of red and yellow tulips blooming up from a tangle of tall grass against the backdrop of the clouded night sky.

* * *

 

The bed is empty next to Caleb when he wakes up the following morning, groaning and sliding his hand over the spot where the sheets are crumpled where Molly had slept. He can hear the clatter of dishes and voices drifting up from the first floor, the low rumble of Yasha’s voice followed by Molly laughing cheerfully. He smiles at the sound and drags himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans and slipping his phone in his pocket, yawning as he pads down the stairs.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead!” Molly says brightly when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. He’s standing at the stove still in the clothes he’d slept in, in the process of turning over strips of bacon in a pan, another pan of eggs on the back burner. He still looks faintly rumpled with sleep, his hair tousled and expression relaxed. “Coffee’s ready if you want,” he adds, nodding to the half full pot on the coffee maker.

Caleb ignores it in favor of moving to stand behind Molly and slip his arms around his middle, hooking his chin over his shoulder and kissing his cheek. Molly smiles and rests one hand briefly on top of Caleb’s before returning to stirring the pan of eggs. Beau groans in disgust from her position sprawled out on the couch.

“You’re affectionate this morning,” Molly mutters, ignoring Beau.

“Mm, I don’t have my cat to cuddle,” Caleb replies.

Molly chuckles. “You can cuddle me all you want,” he says teasingly.

Caleb’s phone vibrates at his hip and he frowns as he hears the ding and buzz of Yasha, Molly, and Beau’s phones almost simultaneously. Molly glances back at him, frowning as he reaches for where his phone is sitting on the counter.

“Holy shit,” Beau says excitedly, clambering over the back of the couch, eyes fixed on her phone. “Oh man, they’re just little fuzzballs!”

Caleb pulls out his own phone, seeing a message from Jester on the screen.

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _it’s a good thing my momma cancelled our trip because Fluffernutter had babies!!!!!! ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎ ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎ ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎_

There’s a picture attached of a familiar fluffy black cat that he’s seen in a dozen pictures sent from Molly and something quickly clicks in his brain as Molly says, “Hey, it’s Yasha!” as he looks at his own phone.

Yasha gives him a confused look and he waves her off, cooing as he more closely examines the picture. There are three little puffs of black fur curled against the cat’s stomach in a pile, all of them clumped together in what looks to be a laundry basket lined with towels. Caleb’s phone begins to vibrate in his hand and he realizes quickly that Jester had sent the picture out as a group text.

 **_Nott:_ ** _Jester and I found them in the bushes this morning, they wouldn’t shut up_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _aw, they’re cute :)_

 **_Unknown Number:_ ** _Jester, you cannot keep four cats, you know I’m allergic to them, right?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Shut up, Fjord, they’re mine now!! (ಠuಠ)_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _her name is Yasha 2, not Fluffernutter, which is a stupid name_

 **_Unknown Number:_ ** _why is this cat named after me?_

 **_Jester:_ ** _her name is FLUFFERNUTTER_

 **_Beauregard:_ ** _I dunno, Jes, Yasha 2 is a pretty good name_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Jester, who are all these other people?_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Jester, I do not know if a group chat was a good idea_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _oh, hi, Caleb! :) <3 _

**_Caleb:_ ** _hello, Caduceus_

 **_Nott:_ ** _Caleb, Frumpkin is fixed, right? You don’t think when he got out he might have..._

 **_Beauregard:_ ** _yikes_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _of course he is fixed, I am a responsible pet owner_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _poor guy_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _I don’t think he was out long enough to get freaky anyway_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _unless he’s VERY efficient_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _efficient?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _he means at sex, Caduceus_

 **_Unknown Number:_ ** _good lord, is this necessary?_

 **_Beauregard:_ ** _wow_

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf:_ ** _as hilarious as this conversation is, I have to finish making breakfast_

**_Mollymauk Tealeaf has left the conversation_ **

Molly turns back to the stove, scoffing quietly under his breath and looking somewhere between smug and amused.

 **_Yasha:_ ** _goodbye, people I do not know_

**_Yasha has left the conversation_ **

**_Beauregard:_ ** _Jester, DO NOT LET THEM PISS ON OUR STUFF, we’ll discuss this when I get back tomorrow_

**_Beauregard has left the conversation_ **

**_Fjord:_ ** _why do you involve me in these things, Jester_

**_Fjord has left the conversation_ **

**_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _you are all big party poopers_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _I’m still here, Jester! The kittens are cute :)_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _thank you, Caduceus_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _they are very cute_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _can I come see them later this week?_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _Of course, Caleb! They’re so tiny and sweet_ _( ╥ω╥ )_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Please do not give the mother cow’s milk, it is bad for cats. Buy her wet food, Nott can give you some of Frumpkin’s if you need it. And make sure the box is in a nice quiet place like a cabinet with the door partially open so the mother feels safe._

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _you should listen to Caleb, Jester_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _I wiiiiill, don’t worry, I will take care of them!_

 **_Nott:_ ** _I’ll help, Caleb, I’ll get Frumpkin’s old bed, too_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _good idea, Nott_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’m going to have breakfast now, please do not let these cats get hurt, Jester_

 **_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _I WON’T gosh_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _have a good day, Caleb! I’ll call you later :) <3 _

**_Jester Lavorre:_ ** _awwwwwww (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡_

Caleb flushes as he leaves the chat, setting his phone on the counter and clearing his throat, glad the others are already chatting about what to do that day rather than the text conversation. He pours himself a cup of coffee and leans back against the counter, watching Molly absently as he dishes food onto plates, humming quietly.

The cool weather from the day before has persisted, the clouds heavy and dark and promising rain, so they spend the day driving around the island shopping and end up seeing a movie in an almost empty theater, Molly brushing his fingers teasingly up and down Caleb’s thigh the entire time and leaving him squirming as heat prickles over his skin even after they leave and go back to the house, rain washing in sheets across the pavement as they hurry up the stairs to the front door.

Once Beau and Yasha have gone to bed that night, Molly tugs Caleb upstairs and rides him until he comes across Caleb’s stomach soon after Caleb has arched up into him, swearing as he comes into the condom. Molly collapses exhausted and sweaty next to him, grinning dazedly.

“Fuck, we should have been doing this so much sooner,” he says, breathing heavily. He touches Caleb’s back gently when he stands to throw away the condom and wipe his stomach clean. He curls up against Caleb’s side when he lies back down again, fingertips tracing random patterns over his chest and stomach and sending pleasant shivers up Caleb’s skin.

“Mm, I don’t want to drive back tomorrow,” he mumbles, laying his head on Caleb’s chest and closing his eyes. “Do you have plans the rest of the week? Fjord will be gone until Friday so you could stay in our dorm for a little bit if you want?” He looks up at Caleb hopefully, almost bashful as he waits for his response.

“Yeah, sure,” Caleb replies, smiling when Molly grins broadly.

They spend another hour lazily making out before falling asleep tangled up together under the blankets. They wake up early the next morning to pack, Caleb feeling a now familiar twist of guilt when he finally checks his phone for the first time since the previous morning as they’re loading their bags into their car and realizes he has several missed calls and text messages from Caduceus, the calls all from the previous day and the last text message from just a few minutes ago.

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Guess you’re busy, I’ll try calling later :) or feel free to call_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Will you be able to talk tonight? Miss you :) <3 _

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Hope you’re having a good time, you’re coming back tomorrow right?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _Maybe just let me know when you’re back so I know you’re safe, yeah? Sorry if I’m being a nuisance, I just really miss your voice <3 _

Caleb swears under his breath, half-glancing at Molly where he’s helping Beau cram their bags in the trunk before slipping off around the side of the house and dialing Caduceus’ number.

“Hello?”

An unfamiliar male voice answers the phone, deep and rumbling like Caduceus’ but slightly sharper.

“Uh, hello,” Caleb says, frowning. “Is Caduceus there?”

“Yeah, hang on,” the voice says, continuing more faintly, “Cad! It’s your boyfriend.”

“Really?” he hears Caduceus say excitedly in the background.

“He’s coming,” the unfamiliar voice says, sounding bored.

“Thank you,” Caleb replies, “is this… Cassius?”

“Yeah,” the voice says, not elaborating further beyond saying something muffled to Caduceus when he passes off the phone a few seconds later.

“Hey!” Caduceus says breathlessly. “I was hoping you’d call. Sorry if I bothering you with so many messages. I realized after I sent them I probably seemed really clingy.”

“No, no, it’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to my phone.”

“Well, I figured you were busy doing something,” Caduceus says good-naturedly.

Caleb winces at the thought of what exactly he’d been busy doing when Caduceus had been trying to contact him.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so out of touch,” he says guiltily. “I promise we can spend the whole weekend together if you want.”

“That would be nice,” Caduceus says, voice soft with affection. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Caleb says earnestly. "I'm sorry, I have not been a very good boyfriend the past few days."

"It's okay," Caduceus says, though Caleb can hear the hurt in his voice. "I don't want you to feel like you have to constantly be available. I just... I've been thinking about you a lot."

"I know, I promise you we will spend plenty of time together when you get back."

"Alright," Caduceus says almost shyly, "I feel a little silly, missing you so much. Thinking about... kissing you and... and touching you."

Caleb knows it's meant to be innocent, but he can't help the heat that floods his face hearing Caduceus thinking about touching him in the low, rumbling voice of his.

"Oh?" he breathes.

"Yeah," Caduceus replies bashfully. 

“Darling, we’re leaving!” Molly calls, poking his head around the corner. His smile wavers slightly when he sees Caleb is on the phone but he doesn’t make any comment, simply saying, “we’ll wait in the car, yeah?” before disappearing again.

“I’ll let you go,” Caduceus says, the faintest shade of remorse in his voice.

“I’ll keep you posted, okay?” Caleb assures him.

“If it’s not too much trouble? Just so I know you’re safe.” There’s an edge of doubt in the way he says it that does nothing to lessen the knot of guilt in Caleb’s chest.

“Caleb, I’ll leave without you!” Beau calls impatiently from around the corner.

“I’ll text you later, I promise,” Caleb vows hastily, exchanging brief a goodbye with Caduceus before jogging to the car and slipping into the backseat with Molly, who gives him a strained sort a smile as Beau backs out of the driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for the wonderful comments. We're getting close to the end! 
> 
> Have a wonderful week! <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I turn 30 today, time to die.
> 
> will be back to regular posting now so expect chapter 20 on Friday! Cad's playlist updated https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6KtlFqamabc6n40tw3kFcv
> 
> Forgot to link this AMAZING art for chapter 8!! Y’all kill me https://monsterhandholder.tumblr.com/post/185168440892/i-have-been-infatuated-with-this-fic-friendly

The drive back isn’t nearly as enjoyable as the one there, heavy storm clouds still hanging low in the sky overhead and occasionally opening up to dump rain on them so heavily that traffic slows to a crawl as they’re driving around Philadelphia. Molly dozes off after an hour or two of driving, his head pillowed in Caleb’s lap with Caleb’s jacket balled up under his head. Caleb watches the rain streak across the window, his fingers automatically combing through Molly’s hair as they often do when he’s petting Frumpkin. He’s surprised at how well he’s done without Frumpkin with him, surprised at how easily Molly has fit into that slot when he finds himself silently seeking comfort or touch, both of which he so readily offers to Caleb.

He starts when he looks down and sees Molly blinking blearily up at him. He yawns and mumbles something sleepily before rolling onto his side, turning his face into Caleb’s stomach, and dropping back off to sleep. Caleb smiles and continues the slow stroking of his hair, letting his own brain go static at the sound of the rain pinging against the roof of the car and the low hum of Yasha and Beau talking quietly in the front seat.

Beau wakes them both when they stop for lunch and to fill the gas tank somewhere around New York. The rain has stopped, weak sunlight penetrating the clouds as they sit on the curb and eat in sleepy silence. Beau yawns hugely and Yasha offers to drive the rest of the way, Beau gratefully accepting despite Molly shaking his head fervently from behind Yasha’s back, eyes wide.

“Wear your seatbelt,” Molly mumbles to Caleb when they climb back into the car, Caleb giving him a quizzical look.

He quickly understands what Molly means, though, when they peel out of the parking lot and back onto the interstate, Beau grabbing at the handle of her door to keep from flying forward when Yasha all but slams onto the brakes to yield to oncoming traffic. She seems unaware of the distress of her passengers as they continue like this for the next few hours, alternating between fast acceleration and hard braking every time they hit traffic or have to switch to another lane. Beau looks torn between speaking up and not wanting to upset Yasha, glancing at her fretfully every few minutes.

When Yasha pulls up to the corner outside Caleb’s apartment, Molly rushes to climb out with him to help him unload his bag, looking frazzled.

“I can’t believe we survived that,” he mutters as he drags Caleb’s duffel bag out and swings it over his shoulder.

“Does Yasha… have a license?” Caleb says, peering back at the car where Yasha is still sitting in the driver’s seat, Beau next to her looking unnaturally pale.

“Yeah, but she never drives,” Molly replies, pausing as Caleb unlocks the front door to let them in. “I think the last time was maybe a year ago? We borrowed Gustav’s car and she ran into a mailbox. We aren’t allowed to use it anymore.”

Caleb shakes his head in disbelief as they step inside, bending down to scoop up Frumpkin as he comes trotting out into the living room, meowing excitedly at the sight of Caleb.

“Hey, buddy,” Caleb mumbles, smiling and hugging him against his chest, savoring the rumble of his purr.

Molly grins and scratches Frumpkin under the chin before dropping Caleb’s bag to the floor.

“Let me know when you’re coming over, yeah?” he says.

Caleb hums in agreement, accepting the kiss Molly presses to his lips and watching him hurry back out to the car. He waves at Caleb through the window and Caleb lifts a hand to return it, closing the door when the car disappears around the corner.

He pulls out his phone and sends a message to Caduceus as well as one to Nott to let him know he’s home before collapsing onto the couch with a sigh. Frumpkin kneads at his chest, still purring loudly, before curling up into a ball and going to sleep. It’s still only late afternoon but even with sleeping in the car he still feels drained of energy from the drive. It doesn’t take long for the lull of Frumpkin’s purr to ease him to sleep.

Nott wakes him up when she returns home a few hours later. The two of them eat dinner together, Caleb recounting the appropriate parts of the trip to her before unpacking—he sets the stuffed cat Molly won him on top of the dresser with a smile—before showering and heading to Molly’s dorm. He texts Caduceus on the way, surprised and a little wary that he’s been silent since their conversation that morning.

Molly yanks him into the room when he knocks on the door, kissing him eagerly and pulling at his clothes. Caleb bends him over the edge of the bed and fucks him, flipping him over onto his back and sinking to his knees to take him in his mouth after he comes into the condom. He feels hedonistic with Molly, falling asleep in a sweaty pile of limbs, pressed close together in the tiny bed, and waking up with Molly between his legs with his lips stretched around him.

They spend half the morning in bed before Caleb reluctantly drags himself back home to shower and eat, gathering his books and computer before heading back to Molly’s dorm where they laze away the rest of the day working on homework and simply enjoying each other’s company. The next day, they make their way to Beau and Jester’s house and spend the morning fawning over the squirming kittens, their eyes still closed as they crawl unsteadily over their mother. Jester eyes Molly a little coolly while they’re there and Caleb makes a mental note to talk to her the next time he sees her without Molly around.

When Molly tries to undress him when they return to his dorm that afternoon, Caleb stops him gently, taking his wrists in his hands.

“Molly,” he begins carefully, “you know we don’t have to do this every day, right? I don’t… I don’t want you to think I expect it of you constantly. You know I don’t, right? We can just talk or watch a movie or something.”

“Oh,” Molly says, looking faintly confused. “Oh, um, okay, sure. Are you sure you don’t want me to—“

“Molly,” Caleb says more firmly, twining their fingers together. “I like spending time with you. We do not have to have sex for that to be true. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely enjoy it. But you know that is not all I care about, right?”

Molly nods timidly, chewing at his bottom.

“Sorry,” he says around an anxious laugh, “I guess I’m not really used to that yet.”

Caleb sighs and murmurs, “Come here, _Schatz,"_ pulling Molly into a hug and kissing his forehead before guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed with him. Molly avoids his eye, brows drawn together nervously.

“Will you look at me?” Caleb says softly, smiling reassuringly when Molly does.

“I’m sorry I’m not good at this yet,” Molly says rapidly, “I don’t know how to do this, Caleb.” He lets out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “I guess maybe I just thought if I kept you busy in bed, you wouldn’t catch on to how bad I am at everything else.”

A hollow, unpleasant feeling settles in his chest at the pained look on Molly’s face.

“Molly,” he runs his hand up Molly’s back comfortingly, “I’m not good at this, either. I am selfish and don’t deserve everything you’ve given me and I scare easily when it comes to things getting to complicated. But I am still falling in love with you, and I would feel that way regardless.”

Molly’s eyes grow impossibly wide, lips parting in disbelief, and for a moment Caleb is afraid he’s scared him with the confession. But then Molly’s face splits into a wide, relieved smile.

“Really?” he breathes, voice cracking.

“Really,” Caleb murmurs, kissing his cheek and squeezing him around the shoulders.

“Me too,” Molly whispers and leans against his side. He tilts his head back to meet Caleb’s eye. “We can still fool around though, right? I like doing that… It makes me feel close to you.”

Caleb laughs. “As long as you are not doing it because you feel obligated to to keep me around then yes.”

Molly hums happily and relaxes against him. They end up squeezing together on his bed to watch a movie on Caleb’s laptop until Caleb eventually heads home late that evening. He checks his phone on the way back, frowning and growing increasingly anxious at the lack of response to his messages to Caduceus. If it was anyone else he might think he was being ignored due to his own inability to answer Caduceus’ messages, but he knows there’s no way Caduceus would be that petty. Well, he hopes not at least.

He’s reading in bed, about to go to sleep, when his phone buzzes on the bed next to him. He answers it quickly when he sees it’s Caduceus calling.

“Hello?”

“I’m so so sorry, Caleb, I accidentally dropped my phone and I couldn’t get it fixed until today. I swear I wasn’t ignoring you, I’ve been panicking thinking you’d be upset. Are you upset?”

He pauses to breathe and Caleb uses the opportunity to speak.

“Caduceus, calm down,” he says gently. “It’s fine. I am not upset, I assumed you were just busy.”

Caduceus exhales hard.

“I just didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you,” he says. He sighs and continues reluctantly, “I can’t really talk long, I’ve got to pack and stuff but I just needed to make sure you knew what was going on.”

“Well, thank you,” Caleb says, smiling, “I am excited to see you Saturday.”

“Me too,” Caduceus replies. “I, um, I was thinking I could pick you up around 10?”

“I will be waiting.”

“Oh, um, my mom and I made cookies and I’m bringing some back,” Caduceus says hesitantly. “They’re vegan so if you don’t want them—“

“I’m sure they’re delicious if you made them.”

Caduceus makes a quiet, embarrassed sound and Caleb bites back a fond laugh.

“I have to go,” Caduceus says apologetically. “But I’ll let you know when we leave tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Caleb replies. “Sleep well, Caduceus.”

“You too, Caleb. Good night.”

Caleb ends the call, absently petting Frumpkin and looking to his closed door when there’s a soft knock on it.

“Come in, Nott,” he says, setting his book aside.

“Hey,” she says as she pushes the door open and pokes her head inside. “I just wanted to let you know, Jester found someone to take the cats. They’re a vet assistant her mom knows so they’re going to make sure they get everything they need.”

“That is good to hear,” Caleb says. He grimaces. “No offense to Beau and Jester, but I do not believe they would be very responsible pet owners.”

“You’re probably right,” Nott says, pulling a face. She pauses apprehensively. “So, uh, how are things going with Molly and Caduceus?”

“Things are going fine,” Caleb says slowly, “Why?”

“Just checking,” Nott says evasively. “You seem happier lately,” she continues, smiling.

“I feel happier,” Caleb replies honestly.

“I’m glad they make you happy.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “Good night, Caleb.”

“Good night, Nott.”

She shuts the door gently as she backs out and Caleb frowns briefly in consideration before picking his book back up and continuing to read until he falls asleep.

* * *

He’s in the middle of pruning the violets Caduceus had bought him—carefully following the instructions Caduceus had given him—when there’s a knock at the front door. He clicks his tongue so Frumpkin leaps lightly off his shoulder onto the floor at his feet before going to answer it, smiling up at Caduceus as his chest warms at the sight of him after a full week apart.

He’s clutching a paper bag and shifting restlessly on his feet, his hair gathered in a loose braid to one side. His face lights up when Caleb pulls the door open, ears perking up, and Caleb realizes then just how much he’d missed him and his sunny smile, the familiar tumultuous wave of butterflies blooming in his stomach.

“Good morning,” he says, holding out his foot when Frumpkin appears at his side and gazes curiously up at Caduceus, meowing.

“Hey,” Caduceus clears his throat and holds the paper bag out to him, “Um, they’re vegan chocolate chip.”

Caleb opens the bag and peers inside, mouth watering at the smell of the dozen or so cookies inside.

“Hang on,” he says as he closes the bag again. “I’m going to put them in my room so Nott doesn’t eat them.” He bends down to scoop up Frumpkin and deposit him into Caduceus’ arms before going back the hall to his room to drop the bag on his dresser.

Frumpkin is perched on Caduceus’ shoulder when he returns, batting lightly at Caduceus’ ear, Caduceus tilting his head to the side slightly and looking torn between laughter and apprehension when Frumpkin begins nipping playfully at him.

“Come here, you,” Caleb mutters, reaching up to pull Frumpkin down and drop him back inside before stepping out and shutting the door behind him.  

“You’re taking me to the park, _ja_?” Caleb says, looking up expectantly at Caduceus.

“Yeah, I figured it’s a pretty nice day,” Caduceus replies as he glances up at the cloudless blue sky, the sun already warm against Caleb’s skin. “Oh, um, I got you something in Maine.”

“Oh?” Caleb watches as he pulls two paperback books from his pocket, one of them the one he’d bought when they’d gone shopping together, and the other what Caleb realizes is a collection of poetry in German when Caduceus holds it out to him.

“There’s a used book store sort of like the one we went to,” Caduceus explains as Caleb takes the book from him and flips through it, “Smaller, of course, but I saw that and thought you might like it. Plus, I figured it’s such a nice day, maybe we could read together,” he finishes hopefully, holding up his own book.

“I would enjoy that,” Caleb says, nodding. He tucks the book under his arm and rocks up on his toes to kiss Caduceus gently, pausing before stealing a second, longer one. He’d missed that, too. “Thank you.”

Caduceus flushes and Caleb reaches out to take his hand in his own as they set off in the direction of the park. Caduceus tells him about his week with his family, Caleb feeling lulled by the sound of his voice, the slow, rumbling cadence that he thinks could easily put him to sleep if given the chance. He missed the calm energy he’s exuded since the first time Caleb had met him, the way it makes that glow in his chest spread to his fingertips.

They’ve fallen into a comfortable silence when they reach the entrance to the park, the paved path dappled with sunlight and much more crowded than it had been the last time they’d come, dogs romping through the grass and parents pushing strollers past them as they walk. The flowerbeds are full of color now that spring has begun in earnest, daffodils giving way to tulips and irises and delicate pansies, the trees along the path budding with pale green leaves.

“You were right,” Caleb says as they cross the footbridge where Caduceus had first kissed him, Caduceus taking him down the stone stairs that leads to the path that winds around the lake. “It is beautiful in the spring,” he explains when Caduceus looks at him quizzically.

“It really is,” he says a little absently, smiling faintly as they continue down the path, the warm breeze making the long, vine-like branches of the weeping willows along the bank sway and dance where they droop over the water.

“Here,” Caduceus says, halting and nodding at one of the willows where it’s growing at a precarious angle out of the earth so it’s leaning out over the water, it’s thick roots knotted around the base and anchoring it firmly to the ground. Caleb can just make out the bridge through the branches, a few ducks floating lazily across the water nearby. “Seems like a good spot.”

There’s a little alcove formed by the ring of roots on the side of the tree facing the water, the grass lush and mottled with sunlight that winks to shadow as the branches overhead wave back and forth, slow and hypnotic. It’s wonderfully secluded and serene and Caleb has the vaguest suspicion that it’s not a randomly selected spot. The idea that Caduceus had planned it makes him feel even more enamored with him.

Caduceus settles back against the trunk of the tree and pats the grass next to him. Caleb smiles and sinks down beside him, leaning back against Caduceus’ thigh and pulling out his book, seeing Caduceus set his own on his lap with a contented sigh. It’s undeniably peaceful, reading with the quiet sounds of the rustling branches and the distant talk of passersby, the pleasant melody of birdsong overhead. What Caleb enjoys most, though, is simply being in Caduceus’ presence again, enjoying his warmth against his back and the occasional brush of his fingers on his arm when Caduceus seeks out touch like he so often does.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been there for when he stops reading, pausing nearly halfway through the book. Caduceus has long since set his own book aside and has been spending the last ten minutes methodically plucking and weaving together long blades of grass and pale pink primrose growing in a little clump at the base of the tree. Caleb looks up to watch him for a moment, the delicate, practiced movement of his fingers as he picks another flower at the base of its stem and carefully threads it through the neat braid of greenery. It's oddly relaxing to watch and he feels his brain take on that static, fuzzy feeling it sometimes gets listening to Frumpkin purr.  
  
"What are you making?"  
  
Caduceus glances up, looking surprised to see him watching him, and smiles.  
  
"Hang on, I'm almost finished," he says. He plucks another long blade of grass, tucking it between his lips as he begins deftly weaving the two loose ends of the long chain together. He winds the grass back and forth a few times around where the ends come together, tucking a few stray pieces into place before turning the whole thing over in his hands a few times to examine it.  
  
"Done," he says, grinning as he plops the ring of flowers on Caleb's head.  
  
Caleb glances up at the pink and green in his periphery and laughs quietly as he reaches up to carefully touch one of the fragile pink petals.  
  
"Very regal," Caduceus says. He reaches out to tuck Caleb's hair behind his ear, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone and tilting his chin up so he can lean down to kiss him softly.  
  
"You are spoiling me, _Bärchen_ ," Caleb mutters as he settles back against Caduceus' thigh again, closing his eyes and humming when Caduceus combs his fingers absently through his hair. He turns back to his book, smiling as Caduceus begins brushing his fingertips over the nape of his neck.  
  
"What's this one about?" Caduceus says, leaning down to peer over Caleb's shoulder and gesturing to the poem currently displayed in his book.  
  
"Mm, spring," Caleb replies as he scans the brief passage.  
  
"Will you read it to me?"  
  
"You will not understand it, though," Caleb chuckles, glancing back at him.  
  
"I know," Caduceus says. He leans back against the tree and lets his eyes slide closed, head tilting back slightly so the dappled sunlight plays across his face. "I like listening to you read."

Caleb is a little taken aback by this confession but clears his throat and begins to read regardless, the words coming out clunky at first as he’s not used to reading out loud like this, much less in German which he rarely speaks outside of with his parents. Caduceus doesn’t seem to mind, though, smiling as Caleb finishes the poem and moves onto the next one.

Caduceus hums pleasantly when Caleb stops reading after a few minutes, cracking one eye open and smiling wider. His smile wavers and he pauses before reaching to take the book from Caleb to set it in the grass beside him. He cups Caleb’s cheek in his hand and kisses him, that same careful, unsure way he’s always kissed him.

He pulls away after a few seconds, giving Caleb an uncertain look.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb touches his other hand lightly where it’s curled in his lap.

“Can I ask you something, Caleb?” he says cautiously.

“Of course. What is it?”

Caduceus drops his hand from where it’s resting on Caleb’s cheek, chewing at his bottom lip and frowning like he’s trying to find a way to compile his thoughts into words.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but have you… um, have you and Mollymauk—“ he looks down at his lap, exhaling slowly through his lips. “Have you… slept together?”

Something uneasy curdles in Caleb’s stomach, his heart lurching unpleasantly like he’s missed a step going down a flight of stairs.

“Oh,” he says, wetting his lips nervously, “um, yes. We have.”

“Right,” Caduceus mumbles, nodding absentmindedly, eyes still fixed on his lap. “I figured.”

“Is that—does this upset you?” Caleb says carefully.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Caduceus replies, though Caleb isn’t sure he believes him with the way his ears are drooping, “I kind of expected it. I guess I just… wanted to know for sure.” He pauses, brow furrowing, before looking up at Caleb at last, expression resolute. “I want to.”

“Want to?” Caleb says bemusedly. “Want to what?”

“I want to have sex with you,” Caduceus says plainly.

Heat erupts across Caleb’s face at his bluntness and he glances around quickly to make sure there’s no one else nearby before turning back to Caduceus, who’s still wearing the same determined look.

“Caduceus,” he whispers. “I, um, not that I am saying no but—are you just saying this because Molly and I—”

“No,” Caduceus says firmly, shaking his head, “No, I… I want to, Caleb.”

“Caduceus,” Caleb says gently, lifting the ring of flowers off his head when he feels faintly ridiculous having this discussion with them on, “please, just—I don’t—if this is what you want, I am more than willing to do anything you would like. But I want to make sure it is because _you_ want to, not because you think it is what _I_ want.”

“I _do_ want to,” Caduceus replies insistently. He takes a deep breath. “Caleb, I’ve never really been interested in this sort of thing before. I don’t _hate_ it or anything, it just never seemed all that exciting to me. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot since last week and I lo—I care about you, Caleb, and I know that this would make you feel good. And I want to make you feel good.”

There’s a heated intent behind his words that makes Caleb’s mouth go dry and his pulse leap in anticipation.

“Okay,” he says, exhaling shakily.

“I tried doing some research,” Caduceus continues, pulling a wry face, “Jester lent me one of her books over break and I tried reading it but I don’t think it was very accurate.” He cheeks darken. “So I, um, watched some… things, but I got embarrassed and couldn’t finish any of them.”

Caleb gapes at him, not sure if he’s more thrown off by the fact that Caduceus tried to read a cheap smut novel for sex tips or tried watching porn for them.

“I was hoping maybe you could help me,” he says almost shyly.

Caleb’s fingers tighten so hard around his book he’s afraid he might be permanently bending some of the pages. The part of him that has been lying cautiously dormant when it comes to seeing Caduceus in this light roars to life at the idea of taking him to bed, teaching him just how he wants to be touched and held and fucked. He squirms at the thought.

“What would you like to do?” he says breathlessly.

Caduceus frowns. “Um, have sex?” he says, looking confused.

“ _Ja_ , I mean, ah, what do you _want to do_?” Caleb repeats more slowly. He lowers his voice further when several joggers pass by the tree. “There many different things we can do, Caduceus.”

“Oh,” Caduceus says, frown deepening thoughtfully. “Well then… what would you like the most?”

Caleb swallows thickly at the question, a myriad of possibilities presenting themselves to his imagination, though there’s one that has always been at the forefront any time he’s thought about the possibility of having sex with Caduceus. He glances around furtively again before scooting closer to him so he can put his lips close to his ear.

“I want you inside of me,” he murmurs, hearing Caduceus draw a quick breath at his words. He sits back so he can look at him, seeing his eyes wide and the color on his face darken. “Does that sound okay?”

Caduceus nods silently.

“Okay,” he says, eyes flicking over Caleb’s face. “Let’s go.”

“Wh— _now_?” Caleb says incredulously.

“Why not?” Caduceus says, already pushing himself to his feet even as Caleb continues to gawk at him. He holds his hand out towards him, expression set decisively.

“Ah,  _Verdammt,_ okay,” Caleb mumbles, taking Caduceus’ hand and pulling himself up, tucking his book under his arm.

“Um, can we go to your apartment?” Caduceus says as they walk back in the direction they’d come. “It’s just… there are people in the rooms by mine and my bed is kind of small.”

“ _Ja_ , sure,” Caleb says distantly, still trying to wrap his mind around the rapid change of events. Caduceus’ hand is tangled in his own and he feels a thrill of excitement at the idea of those hands on him, _in_ him. It makes him feel dizzy and he’s so distracted heading back to his apartment he almost walks into traffic, Caduceus tugging him back and wrapping an arm protectively around his middle when a taxi blares its horn at them.

“Geez,” Caduceus mutters, frowning after the taxi before looking worriedly at Caleb. “You okay?”

Caleb nods, eyes trailing over the line of Caduceus’ jaw, the angle of his cheekbones, the pale fan of his eyelashes. His hand is still resting firmly on Caleb’s waist and heat needles under his collar. He remembers how good it had felt to have Caduceus’ hands on his skin the last time they’d seen each other, how carefully he’d touched him, and he feels goosebumps erupt across his arms at the thought.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles, pulling Caduceus across the street when the light changes.

His body is humming with anticipation when they reach his apartment and he hurries to unlock the door, letting Caduceus in first before following after him and shutting the door with a loud snap. Caduceus smiles nervously at him, the same intense, determined look behind the apprehension.

“We can go to my room?” Caleb suggests, following him back the hall when he nods. He ushers Frumpkin off the bed and into the hall before closing the door, turning to Caduceus where he’s sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed.

“Here,” Caleb says gently, gesturing to the bed. “Why don’t we just… lie down. We can just kiss if you want?"

Caduceus nods, looking relieved, and slips off his shoes.

“Maybe just for a little bit,” he says, climbing onto the bed and lying against the pillows.

His eyes widen when Caleb crawls onto the bed with him and straddles his hips in a position that’s becoming familiar to him with Caduceus.

“Is this okay?” Caleb asks, resting his hands flat on Caduceus’ chest.

Caduceus nods wordlessly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he settles his hands tentatively on Caleb’s waist. Caleb slides his hands up to rest on Caduceus’ shoulders as he leans down to kiss him. It’s chaste at first, reassuring, and he feels Caduceus relax beneath him. He sighs quietly, parting his lips and tilting his head to the side to kiss him more deeply.

Caleb brushes his tongue along the seam of Caduceus’ lips before letting it dip onto his mouth when he opens it obediently. Caduceus makes a soft, affected noise against his lips, his hands gripping him more firmly by the waist as he shifts minutely under him. Heat unfurls lazily in Caleb’s blood and he thinks he would be content simply staying like this, kissing Caduceus for hours, refamiliarizing himself with the softness of his lips against his own. But the promise of _more_ is weighing heavy in the back of his brain, his cock filling rapidly and his breath quickening at the thought. His hips rock down almost automatically and he whines and fists his hands in Caduceus’ shirt when the friction sends a burst of pleasure through him.

“ _Scheisse_ ,” he murmurs, shaking with the effort to still his hips when all he wants to do is shift down until his cock is pressed against Caduceus’ and grind against him until they both come.

He gasps when Caduceus uses his grip on his waist to lower him onto the bed next to him as he rolls on his side, Caleb’s legs still wrapped loosely around his middle.

“Is this okay?” Caduceus breathes, his hands sliding up the back of Caleb’s shirt to roam over his skin.

“ _Ja,_ yeah, it’s good,” Caleb mumbles, kissing him hungrily again, his arms wrapping around Caduceus’ shoulders to pull him closer, their bodies flush together from their chests to their hips.  

Caduceus traces his fingers up Caleb’s spine before lowering one hand hesitantly down to rest just above the waistband of his jeans, fingertips brushing over the sensitive skin and sending a pleasant chill up his back. Caleb reaches behind him to guide Caduceus’ hand under the fabric, groaning encouragingly when Caduceus splays his fingers over his ass. His hands are _huge_ and Caleb’s cock throbs at the prospect of having those fingers inside him.

“Do you want to do this?” he breathes. “I need to know, are you _sure_ you want to do this? If this is too much, too fast we can stop right now. Or do something that is not as much to see if you like it.”

“No, I want to,” Caduceus replies, nodding. “Let me make you feel good, Caleb.”

“ _God_ , yes,” Caleb gasps, kissing him greedily and rocking his hips forward. He groans at the friction and at feeling Caduceus hardening against him. He ruts forward again, tightening his legs around Caduceus’ hips to gain more leverage. Caduceus whimpers quietly, fingers digging into his ass and holding him close.

Caleb pulls away with a wet smack of lips, breathing hard and closing his eyes to gather himself.

“Okay,” he whispers, “um, one second.”

He reluctantly disentangles himself from Caduceus so he can roll over and tug open the drawer of his nightstand. He digs into the bottom under his books and pulls out a bottle of lube and the box of condoms he’d bought just in case. He tosses them both onto the bed before turning back to Caduceus, whose eyes widen.

“Wanted to be prepared,” Caleb mumbles, flushing guiltily at presuming, though he’s glad he did given the circumstances.

“Oh,” Caduceus breathes, nodding absently. “Right.”

Caleb sits up and gestures for Caduceus to do the same, crawling back into his lap and kissing him firmly. He pushes up the hem of Caduceus’ shirt, helping him slip it over his head between needy presses of their lips. Caleb shucks his own shirt, shivering when Caduceus ghosts one hand over his bare chest, throat bobbing nervously.

Caleb palms at the hard line of Caduceus’ cock through his pants, swearing under his breath at how big he is as Caduceus releases a shuddering breath, eyes falling shut and hips jerking up into Caleb’s hand.

“Here,” Caleb undoes the button and zipper on Caduceus’ pants, shifting back on his legs so he can tug them down his hips. He groans at the sight of his cock lying against his thigh beneath his boxers, Caduceus squirming self-consciously under his gaze.

Caleb lightly touches the elastic band of his boxers, glancing up at him, silently asking for permission. Caduceus’ already flushed cheeks darken but he nods. Caleb peels the fabric down, heat pulsing in his groin at the sight of him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he murmurs, swallowing as his mouth floods with saliva. He wants Caduceus in his mouth so badly, to see how much of him he can swallow down before his body fights it.

“What’s wrong?” Caduceus says, sounding concerned and following Caleb’s eyes to his erection.

“Nothing,” Caleb replies, laughing weakly. “You are just… very big.”

“Am I?” Caduceus says warily. “Is that… bad?”

Caleb laughs again, shaking his head.

“Definitely not,” he says. “Can I… I want to use my mouth on you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Caduceus breathes. He looks wonderfully disheveled, his cheeks dark and his hair tousled, long since coming out of the braid and tumbling over one shoulder.

Caleb wraps one hand around the base of Caduceus’ cock, hearing him whimper quietly as he does. He slides his fist absently up the shaft and back down again, fixing his eyes on Caduceus’ face as he lowers his head and licks slowly across the tip of his cock. Caduceus’ mouth falls open silently, the muscles in his face twitching as he watches Caleb open his jaw wide and sink his lips down around him. He inhales shakily and Caleb sees his fingers twist in the sheets at his sides.

His jaw aches immediately at the stretch, his mouth barely fitting around Caduceus and only able to take the first few inches of him in before his throat contracts and his eyes water. But Caduceus is watching him incredulously, eyes wide and mouth agape, little gasps and whines and shifts in his expression as Caleb sucks gently. He hollows his cheeks out and forces his mouth down further, trying to ignore his gag reflex and how sore his jaw and lips are already.

Caduceus lifts one hand tentatively from the bed and skims his fingertips over Caleb’s cheekbone, his hand shaping over Caleb’s jaw when he nods encouragingly. Caduceus tucks his lower lip between his teeth, his other hand combing through Caleb’s hair, rubbing at the nape of his neck, before cradling the back of his head.

“Caleb,” he whines, wetting his lips. “Caleb, this feels, _ah_ , that feels so good.”

Caleb smiles around him as best he can, squeezing his hip with the hand not wrapped around the base of his cock. He pulls back slightly and presses his lips to the silky soft skin at the tip of Caduceus’ cock in the shade of a kiss before drawing his tongue up the length of him. Caleb sucks the head into his mouth again before withdrawing entirely and sitting up on Caduceus’ thighs.

“Can I—“ he grips the waistband of Caduceus’ jeans, pausing for permission. He stands at the edge of the bed when Caduceus nods and tugs his jeans and boxers off along with his socks and tosses them all in a pile. He steps out of his own jeans and underwear, kicking them aside before climbing back onto the bed.

“Wow,” Caduceus breathes, eyes roving over Caleb’s bare skin as Caleb settles on his hips again. “You’re, um—wow.” He skims his hands gingerly over Caleb’s waist, his ribs, his stomach, mapping out every inch of his skin with trembling fingers like he’s trying to memorize the feel of it. He pushes off the pillows, hands coming to rest along Caleb’s jaw and the sides of his neck as he kisses him with that tender adulation that makes his breath spill from his lungs.

“What should I do?” he murmurs, eyes searching Caleb’s, unsure but hooded and determined.

“Here,” Caleb picks the bottle of lube up from the bed and takes one of Caduceus’ hands in his own, feeling his eyes on him as he coats his fingers thoroughly for him before tossing the bottle aside again. He rests his forehead against Caduceus’ as he guides his hand behind him. “Just one first, _ja_?”

Caduceus nods mutely, eyes flitting over Caleb’s face as he rubs his slick index finger experimentally over his hole before pushing it inside him an inch or two. Caleb closes his eyes, brow furrowing at the stretch despite his muscles being lax with arousal. He’s always seen Caduceus’ fingers as long and slender simply from the size of his hands but he can feel now just how thick they are compared to his own.

“Mm, _Verdammt,_ ” he breathes when Caduceus pushes further inside him. He twists his finger tentatively and Caleb moans raggedly when pleasure skitters up his skin as the movement puts pressure on his prostate.

“What’s wrong?” Caduceus says fearfully, pulling his finger free.

“No, no, _nein_ ,” Caleb whines, pushing his hips back. “It’s good. Again.”

Caduceus eyes him warily before pushing his finger back inside him, sinking in further and wetting his lips when Caleb shudders and rocks his hips back. Caleb presses his lips together and exhales unsteadily as Caduceus’ curls his finger inside him.

“Mm, _ah_ , another one,” Caleb groans. He swears and whimpers softly when Caduceus pulls his index finger free before slipping it back inside him along with his middle finger, his muscles aching pleasantly at the stretch.

“Is this okay?” Caduceus whispers, thrusting his fingers slowly into him. He curves his fingers against Caleb’s prostate again, watching him shiver and arch back into the touch, mouth falling open in a gasp. “Does it feel good?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Caleb breathes shakily. “ _Please_ , Caduceus, more.” His body is yielding readily to Caduceus, responding eagerly to his touch and the thought of having him inside him at last.

Caduceus pushes three fingers inside of him and Caleb’s whole body trembles at the burn, eyes squeezing shut and head tipping back. He sighs contentedly when Caduceus kisses his neck softly, Caleb tangling one hand in his hair to hold him close as he rocks his hips back to fuck himself on Caduceus’ fingers. His cock throbs with every deep thrust of his fingers past his prostate, heat coiling in his core.

“Stop,” he whines after a few minutes, biting his lip when Caduceus’ fingers sink fully into him as his lips brush against the sensitive juncture of his jaw. “I’m close,” he explains when Caduceus gives him a fretful look. “And I want to have you inside me before I come.”

Caduceus swallows, nodding as he pulls his fingers free, catching Caleb’s lips in a kiss when he groans softly.

“Lie down,” Caduceus murmurs. “I want to take care of you.”

Caleb nods and climbs off of him to lie back in the pillows, his limbs weak and shaky with arousal. Caduceus sits back on his legs and picks up the box of condoms. He opens it and tears one from the strip, glancing up at Caleb and smiling nervously. He fumbles clumsily trying to tear open the wrapper for a few seconds, brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
“Shoot,” he mutters when he finally rips the foil open, only to drop it onto the bed. “Sorry.”  
  
“Hey,” Caleb says gently, pushing himself into a sitting position and taking Caduceus’ hands in his own. His fingers are trembling. “Let me, okay?”  
  
Caduceus nods, swallowing and wetting his lips. He watches Caleb pick the packet off the bed and slip the condom out. Caleb pinches the tip of it in one hand and rolls it smoothly down the length of Caduceus’ cock with the other. He drips more lube onto the condom, smearing it down Caduceus’ length. He pumps his fist a few times, Caduceus groaning softly as he does. His fingers barely fit fully around him and even when he wraps his other hand around him he’s still not quite covering his full length. Heat curls in his belly and his dick throbs at the thought of it inside him.  
  
He kisses Caduceus briefly, soft and reassuring, before lying back in the pillows again. He tucks a pillow under his lower back to prop his hips up and bends his knees, spreading his legs and gazing up at Caduceus expectantly.  
  
Caduceus stares down at him like he can’t quite believe what’s happening, brows raised and jaw slack.  
  
“Come here,” Caleb murmurs, reaching for him. He lets his legs fall open wider as Caduceus climbs up the bed to hover over him, arms bracing on either side of Caleb’s head and hair falling down in a loose sheet.  
  
“Are you sure I’m not going to—“  
  
“Caduceus,” Caleb cuts across him firmly. “I trust you. I’ll help you, yeah?”  
  
Some of the tension seems to leave Caduceus’ shoulders, though he still looks unsure. His eyes widen when Caleb wraps his legs around his hips, pulling him closer.

“You are sure you want to do this?” Caleb says, “we can stop if you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Caduceus says with a shake of his head. “I want you, Caleb. All of you. In every way.”

Caleb smiles and kisses the corner of his mouth gently.

“Here,” he murmurs, reaching between them to wrap one hand around Caduceus’ cock. Caduceus seems to catch on to his intent, cheeks darkening as he shifts closer, allowing Caleb to guide the head of his cock.  
  
Caduceus gives him one final fleeting, searching look before pushing forward. Caleb feels the hot, blunt pressure against the tight ring of muscle and closes his eyes, willing his body to relax even as his fingers curl in the sheets. His body gives and Caduceus presses into him an inch or two. His breath catches sharp in his throat and his face screws up at the burn and stretch of muscle. Caduceus groans roughly and sinks in further before he can fully adjust and he whines, high and tremulous.  
  
“Hang on,” he gasps haltingly, griping Caduceus arm. “Just... give me a minute. _Fuck_.”  
  
He feels like he’s being split in half, his whole body protesting the intrusion. Even with all of Caduceus’ preparation it still aches all the way up his spine. His legs are shaking weakly where they’re wrapped around Caduceus’ hips.  
  
“Do you want me to stop?”  Caduceus says. He’s watching Caleb with a fraught expression.  
  
“No,” Caleb shakes his head. “I just need to adjust. You are... a lot.” He laughs feebly, the sound turning into a low whine as dull pain throbs across his hips.  
  
He closes his eyes again, breathing in slowly. He sighs, smiling, when Caduceus drops a soothing kiss to his temple. When the discomfort subsides, he tightens his legs around Caduceus’ hips to force him deeper, groaning low in his throat and tilting his head back as the dull burn returns. He can feel the telltale undercurrent of pleasure beneath the ache, his dick—long since softening against his thigh—filling rapidly again.  
  
It takes another minute or two of this, Caduceus sliding deeper into him and pausing to allow him to adjust, until Caleb feels Caduceus’ hips press against his ass. He feels so completely full it makes his head spin, like there’s not enough room left in his body for air to fill his lungs and lend oxygen to his brain.  
  
There’s a deep ache in his lower back and hips that he knows won’t leave him for days. Every tiny shift of movement makes him whine, pain and pleasure inextricably blurred together. He digs his heels more firmly into the base of Caduceus’ spine.  
  
“ _Ah_ , is this okay?” Caduceus breathes. His voice is strained, breath warm against Caleb’s lips and eyes searching Caleb’s carefully. There’s sweat beading on his forehead. “Does it feel good?”  
  
Caleb nods, not sure he’s fully equipped to form actual words right now, and lifts his head up just enough to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of Caduceus’ mouth. Caduceus follows his lips and kisses him hard, desperate. His hips shift forward and Caleb arches his back and cries out weakly at the sensation.  
  
“Am I hurting you?” Caduceus says, expression taut with worry.  
  
“No,” Caleb whispers with a quick shake of his head, absently tucking Caduceus’ hair behind his ear. He traces his fingertips over Caduceus’ temple and down his cheek, pausing when Caduceus turns his face into the touch and kisses his palm tenderly. He nuzzles his cheek into Caleb’s hand and Caleb brushes his thumb over his bottom lip.  
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Caduceus says.  
  
“I am not made of glass, Caduceus,” Caleb says with a quiet laugh. “You are not going to break me.”  
  
“I know,” Caduceus murmurs, “I just want to take care of you.”  
  
There’s a swell of affection in Caleb’s chest and he kisses Caduceus again. It’s chaste at first but quickly turns into something hungrier, greedy. He wraps his arms around Caduceus’ shoulders, groaning as Caduceus kisses him back eagerly. He tightens his legs around Caduceus’ hips to force him closer.  
  
Their lips separate with a wet smack and Caduceus buries his face in Caleb’s neck with a shaky sigh. He’s panting into Caleb’s skin, hot and labored.  
  
“Tell me what to do,” he says, voice low in Caleb’s ear. “Tell me what you want, Caleb.”

“Just move,” Caleb murmurs, kissing his temple and rocking his hips up encouragingly.  
  
Caduceus nods, nosing at Caleb’s ear before pulling his hips back to slide out of him. There’s a brief sensation of emptiness, then he’s rolling his hips forward again, sinking back into him, and Caleb can’t help but moan brokenly as pleasure curls up his spine.  
  
“You feel so good, Caleb,” Caduceus breathes shakily, lips brushing along Caleb’s throat. “You look so good like this.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Caleb gasps, fingernails digging into Caduceus’ back. His cock is hard and aching against his stomach.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Caduceus says, lifting his head to look Caleb in the eye. His face is flushed dark, eyes heavy-lidded. “I don’t think I’ll last very long.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Caleb says, breathing out a weak laugh. “Me neither.”  
  
Caduceus smiles, looking faintly relieved, and kisses him again, slow and unhurried. He repeats the movement of his hips, groaning against Caleb’s lips.  
  
He fucks Caleb like he kisses him, deep and languid and measured. It takes a minute for him to find a rhythm but when he does each thrust punches the air out of Caleb’s lungs. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, like Caduceus is slowly, methodically picking him apart.

His eyes don’t leave Caleb’s apart from when he’s kissing him, and it somehow feels more intimate than everything else they’ve done so far, Caduceus looking at him like he’s everything, eyes so full of adoration that Caleb almost feels like he should look away, like he doesn’t deserve to be looked at that way. But he doesn’t look away, merely soaks in that outpouring of love being given to him like cracked earth greedily accepting rain.

Heat builds steadily in his gut, coiling molten and heavy. He can feel his untouched dick leaking precome, smearing across his skin with each roll of Caduceus’ hips.  
  
“Is this okay?” Caduceus murmurs, breath warm across Caleb’s lips.  
  
Caleb merely groans in response. He feels undone, dizzy with arousal. He barely kisses Caduceus back when he presses their lips together again, hardly able to keep his eyes open much less have enough finesse to match the deliberate movement of Caduceus’ lips. When Caduceus instead moves to trail his lips down the line of his throat, Caleb tilts his head back into the pillows and lets his eyes fall closed. Digging his heels hard into Caduceus’ back, he rocks up to meet his thrusts, reaching down to grip the back of Caduceus’ thigh, urging him closer. He’s so hard it hurts.  
  
Caduceus seems to read this thoughts and shifts his weight to one arm, his other hand reaching between them to wrap around his cock. Caleb shudders at the touch, spine curving off the mattress. He can feel Caduceus trembling with the effort to hold himself up.  
  
He’s reminded again of how large Caduceus’ hands are, his long fingers curled around him and stroking in time with his thrust of his hips. The pad of his thumb rubs over the sensitive head just as he sinks into him and Caleb lets out a dry sob. He can feel himself on the cusp of his orgasm, each breath stuttering out of his lungs and liquid heat pooling inside him.  
  
“I’m close,” he manages to choke out. “Fuck, Caduceus, _please_.”  
  
“I’ve got you,” Caduceus murmurs, sounding as wrecked as Caleb feels. He squeezes his fingers around Caleb’s cock, pumping faster, matching the pace with the movement of his hips.  
  
Caleb feels his whole body curl in on itself as he comes. His legs tighten around Caduceus’ hips, fingernails digging marks into his shoulders as come splashes across his stomach. Caduceus fucks him through it, murmuring something encouraging that Caleb can’t hear, his own low groan drowning it out.  
  
His body goes from taut as a wound spring to slack, like a cord pulled tight and severed, as the last burst of pleasure washes over him. It takes him a few dazed seconds to realize Caduceus is still fucking him, though his thrusts have become jerky and unsteady. He’s bracing himself on both arms again, forehead resting on Caleb’s collarbone, each exhale sharp and stuttering.  
  
“Come on,” Caleb mumbles, stroking the back of Caduceus’ neck with one hand. “I want you to come inside me.”  
  
Caduceus moans, thrusting a little harder into him, and comes. His hips snap forward and his whole body trembles, his breath hot on Caleb’s skin. Caleb pets his hands down his spine and kisses his ear. When he stills after a few seconds, panting hard, Caleb presses a long kiss to his sweat-damp temple.  
  
“Alright?” Caleb asks softly when he’s managed to pull his thoughts back together.  
  
Caduceus lifts his head to look at him. His lips are wet and swollen, face flooded with color and eyes hooded. But he’s smiling, that warm, lazy smile full of a familiar honest adoration that makes Caleb’s stomach flip.  
  
“So much better than that,” he says. He slots their lips together in a deep, languorous kiss that makes Caleb’s cock twitch painfully.  
  
“Mm, too soon,” he whines, though he’s matching Caduceus’ smile.  
  
“Sorry,” Caduceus says, grimacing as he slips out of Caleb, who winces at the sudden feeling of emptiness.  
  
His legs slide from around Caduceus’ hips and onto the bed, his arms flopping to his sides, as a sudden wave of exhaustion hits him so hard his limbs feel like lead. Caduceus presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before sitting up, leaving Caleb feeling cold at the loss of his body heat. Caduceus pulls a face as he disposes of the condom, taking a few tries to tie it off and tossing it in the trash can at the end of the bed. Caleb feels his cock stir with interest at how full it is. He wonders what it would feel like having Caduceus come inside him without one, leaving it to drip messily out of him onto the sheets.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Caduceus says, oblivious to Caleb’s musing. He pats Caleb’s leg as he stands and pads out of the room. Caleb is too light-headed to protest, instead taking the moment to admire the sharp lines of Caduceus’ back as he leaves.  
  
He hears the bathroom door open and the sink run for a minute followed by the sound of Caduceus’ returning footsteps. Caduceus shuts the door behind himself with a click, holding up a wet hand towel when Caleb gives him a questioning look.  
  
He smiles as he crawls back onto the bed with Caleb, gently wiping the warm, wet cloth over his stomach then carefully over the head of Caleb’s softening cock. He moves lower, cleaning the smears of lube from Caleb’s thighs, pressing a soft kiss to Caleb’s knee as he does. It’s so tender that Caleb’s breath catches in his chest. He reaches down to tug Caduceus back up the bed next to him. Caduceus tosses the towel on the floor and curls against Caleb’s side, one arm draping across his waist and his legs bent so they’re not hanging off the end of the mattress.  
  
Caleb turns onto his side to face him and shuffles closer. He smiles, sighing contentedly and bringing one hand up to cup Caduceus’ cheek.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Caduceus says. His hand slides up Caleb’s back, splaying warm across his spine.  
  
“Sore,” Caleb says honestly, chuckling. He grimaces as he shifts, a dull throb of pain blooming across his hips. “But it’s good,” he says when Caduceus’ looks concerned. “It will make me think of you.”  
  
Caduceus flushes, turning his face into the blankets with an embarrassed groan. Caleb laughs softly and kisses his cheek.  
  
“I feel wonderful, Caduceus,” he murmurs, more seriously, combing his fingers through Caduceus’ hair.  
  
Caduceus turns just enough for one eye to peer up at him doubtfully.  
  
“I do,” Caleb insists. “I am always telling you you are a fast learner.” He turns Caduceus’ face so he can rest their foreheads together, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.  
  
Caduceus smiles shyly back at him. His fingers play lightly down Caleb’s spine, dipping lower to rest just above the curve of his ass, rubbing little, soothing circles over his skin.  
  
“You’re sure you’re okay?”  
  
“Mm,” Caleb hums, nodding. He feels well-fucked, loose and heavy-limbed. He fails to suppress a yawn as another wave of fatigue washes over him.  
  
“You can go to sleep if you want,” Caduceus murmurs. His hand is still rubbing gently at Caleb’s back, an absent, calming motion that makes Caleb’s eyelids droop.  
  
“Just for a few minutes. Don’t leave,” he mumbles, forcing his eyes open enough to meet Caduceus’ gaze.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” Caduceus replies, expression fond and sleepy. His presses a tender kiss to Caleb’s forehead, whispering something Caleb doesn’t catch as sleep overtakes him.

Caleb rouses to the feeling of fingers combing slowly through his hair, humming quietly as his eyes blink open to see Caduceus smiling softly at him, chin propped on his fist.

“Hey,” he says, smile widening as Caleb wakes.

“Mm, were you watching me sleep?” Caleb mumbles, yawning.

Caduceus’ fingers still, expression turning guilty and ears drooping. “Sorry,” he says, “is that weird?”

“No, it’s fine,” Caleb says, closing his eyes when Caduceus relaxes and resumes the slow stroking of his hair. “How long was I asleep?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe?” Caduceus replies with a shrug. He’s draped a sheet over them both at some point, covering their bare skin from the waist down.

Caleb shifts and winces as pain blooms up his spine and over his hips.

“Are you okay?” Caduceus says fretfully.

“Mm, _ja_ , I’ll be fine,” Caleb kisses him reassuringly as he says it. He props himself up on his elbow to mirror Caduceus’ position, shivering when the sheet slips down to expose more of his skin.

Caduceus tugs it back up to cover him, resting his hand on his waist.

“How are you feeling?” he asks worriedly.

“I’m okay, Caduceus,” Caleb says, “Really.” He pauses, laying his hand on top of Caduceus’. “What about you? Was that… good? Is this something you want to do again?”

Caduceus nods, blushing pink.

“I liked watching your face,” he says shyly. “And how you sounded.”

Caleb’s cheeks burn with embarrassment but he smiles regardless. “But did it feel good for _you_?” he presses.

Caduceus nods. “It did. But I liked knowing you enjoyed it more.” He smiles warmly and Caleb feels that familiar sensation of breathless adoration for him.

Caduceus’ smile fades into a more considering, apprehensive look.

“Can I ask you a question, Caleb?” he says, pulling his hand from Caleb’s waist to tuck his hair gently behind his ear.

“Always,” Caleb replies, smiling.

“Caleb, do you—“ he pauses, frowning faintly, “Do you believe in destiny?”

Taken aback by the question, Caleb turns it over in his head, humming in consideration.

“I’m... I’m not sure,” he says at last. “I don’t think so. I do not really like the idea of not being in control of my own life.”

Caduceus chuckles. “That’s fair,” he says with a shrug. “I wouldn’t say that’s how I view destiny, though. I don’t think we’re all just pieces being moved on a giant chess board like some people would say destiny is. But I do think we’re all being... lead, I guess, to certain things and certain people that are meant to be in our lives.” He takes Caleb’s hand in his own where it’s now lying on the bed between them, covering it easily and grazing his thumb over his knuckles.

“I believe,” he continues calmly, “that I was led to you, that you were led to me, we were led to each other. I don’t think there was some cosmic interference or that we’re soulmates or anything like that, I’m not sure I believe in that.” He pauses again, clearing his throat quietly and looking down at their hands. He smiles gently.

“Caleb, you’re the first person to ever make me want something like this,” he squeezes Caleb’s hand, “And you are the smartest person I know but you’ve never made me feel stupid. You’re always telling me I’m smart and that I would have done fine without you but I _wouldn’t_ have because I wouldn’t have had you to tell me that.

“I love you, Caleb, I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t say it again and I won’t anymore but I need to say it now so you know that it’s true.” He sighs and wets his lips absently. Then he looks up at Caleb with such unfiltered affection, such _love_ , that Caleb’s breath catches around the growing lump in his throat. His vision is starting to swim with unshed tears.

“I love you,” Caduceus repeats softly, lifting his other hand to cup Caleb’s cheek. “I never thought… I never felt the need to feel like this about someone else. But I can't imagine not feeling like this about you. It’s like… looking at a picture where you don’t know something’s missing, but as soon as it’s there you wonder how you ever thought it was whole without it.” He lets out a nervous sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I know it's probably a weird time to say all this but I was thinking about it while you were sleeping and—" His expression turns concerned as he brushes away the tear that slips free down Caleb’s cheek. “Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong, I—”

“No,” Caleb says, shaking his head and hastily wiping his eyes, blinking rapidly. He lets out a watery, self-deprecating laugh, closing his eyes and leaning into Caduceus’ hand.

“I do not deserve this,” he mumbles, swallowing around the tightness in his throat.

“What do you mean?” Caduceus says, frowning in bemusement.

“This. _You_.” Caleb replies. “Everything you have said, everything you have done, I’m not—Caduceus, I am a _selfish man_ ,” he says emphatically. “You know this, don’t you?”

He feels this way with Molly, too, like he’s taking and taking from both of them without ever giving anything back, sapping them both of affection he doesn’t deserve. He felt that way even before starting a relationship with either of them, has always felt this way, he thinks, undeserving of the care and _love_ he receives, especially from them when he’s so greedily holding their affection hostage.

“Why do you love me?” he whispers, voice cracking.

Caduceus smiles, soft and fond, and thumbs away another tear that slides down his face.

“Because you showed me what it means to want it,” he replies. He huffs out a quiet laugh. “I can give you specifics if you want them.”

Caleb shakes his head, releasing a watery chuckle and sniffing. He can feel the words rising to his lips in spite of himself.

“I love you, too.”

He watches Caduceus’ expression go from confused to shocked to blissfully happy, a blinding smile lighting up his face.

“Really?”

Caleb nods, jolting in surprise when Caduceus wraps his arms around him and embraces him tightly. He didn’t want to admit it, to himself or to Caduceus, but he knows, has known from the second he saw Caduceus after their time apart, that he loves him. Knows as surely as he knows he loves Molly. And the thought makes him as equally gleeful as it makes him sick with guilt.

“I love you,” Caduceus murmurs in his ear. “I love you so much, Caleb.”

Caleb smiles and closes his eyes as he hugs him back, sighing contentedly and tucking his chin over Caduceus’ shoulder. He doesn’t deserve it, any of it, but he _is_ selfish, so he accepts it anyway, clinging to that happy glow in his chest so firmly he’s afraid he might snuff it out, though he’ll savor it for as long as it burns inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments! Have a fabulous week!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for some mild violence and discussion of homophobia  
> -  
> please look at this amazing art from Alarnia for chapter 14 ;w; https://twitter.com/alarnia/status/1135614218663710720  
> -  
> Molly's playlist updated https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dtLgEt6a81XScs8C2fc5M  
> -  
> Thank you An_lerfisch for helping with the German bits in this chapter to make sure they don't sound like google translate.

“Mm, that tickles.”

Caleb smiles against Molly’s skin and continues pressing his lips tenderly to the side of his neck, wrapping his arms more firmly around his middle from where he’s seated behind him on the bed.

“Does it?” he murmurs, nosing at the crook of his jaw and pulling another breath of laughter from him. He brushes his fingers teasingly along Molly’s ribs, feeling the muscles twitch and contract at the touch as Molly jerks in his arms and grabs his hands.

“Don’t,” he says warningly around a laugh.

“Don’t what?” Caleb says, grinning as he digs his fingers into his sides more firmly, laughing when Molly yelps and squirms, letting out a peal of laughter as he yanks himself out of Caleb’s arms and points a stern finger at him, the traces of amusement still on his face.

Caleb smirks and lunges forward to tackle him onto the bed, knocking Molly’s laptop—which has been playing a movie neither of them were really paying attention to—onto the floor as he pins him down by sitting on his hips and lays his hands flat on Molly’s stomach, resisting the urge to sink them into his sides and enjoy the sound of his laughter.

“Don’t,” Molly repeats, taking hold of his wrists and grinning.

Caleb chuckles and lets Molly lift his arms over his own head, humming when Caleb turns his hands over to loosely pin his wrists to the mattress as he lowers his head to kiss him. Molly sighs and relaxes back into the sheets, lazily returning the kiss.

“Oh, hey,” he murmurs when Caleb pulls back after a few minutes when he’s starting to feel the telltale signs of arousal in his blood. “Irena is performing Friday at the club. Wanna go?”

“Sure,” Caleb replies, kissing softly under Molly’s jaw before rolling off him to lie on the bed next to him, their legs dangling over the edge of the mattress and the canopy of jewel-toned silks hanging over them. Molly touches the back of his hand lightly, questing, and Caleb smiles and loosely tangles their fingers together. He feels Molly’s eyes on him and turns his head to see him smiling softly, Caleb returning the smile and feeling a rush of affection—of _love_ —for him.

There’s a knock at the door followed by Fjord’s voice saying, “Is it safe to come in?”

“No, we’re naked and definitely doing it,” Molly responds, smirking as the door clicks open and Fjord walks inside, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, Caleb,” he says as he tossing his duffel bag on the floor. His hair is wet and he rubs at it absently with the towel slung around his shoulders.

“Hello, Fjord,” Caleb replies, sitting up. “Erm, good practice?”

Fjord shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise.

“Fjord never lets me go to his practices,” Molly says as he sits up next to Caleb. “Said I ogled them too much. I mean it’s a bunch of dudes in speedos, aren’t they there to be ogled?”

Caleb laughs and Fjord’s cheeks darken.

“Bet he’d let Jester go,” Molly mutters under his breath, nudging Caleb with his elbow. He stands and stretches luxuriously, yawning.

“I should get going,” Caleb says, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ve still got some homework to finish.”

“Boo, okay,” Molly says, pouting but allowing Caleb to kiss him briefly. “I’ll text you about Friday, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Caleb replies as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“See you soon,” Molly says as Caleb opens the door to leave.

He pauses to kiss Molly once more before stepping out into the hall and waving as Molly shuts the door behind him.

He smiles, that light, buoyant feeling that had settled in his chest when he’d first started his relationship with Molly is still ever-present when he’s with him, inflating a little more every time they’re together. He wants to tell Molly he loves him, but he’s waiting for the right moment. He thinks part of him is also worried about scaring Molly despite him confessing he was falling in love with Caleb, too.

His phone vibrates in his hand as he’s walking off campus towards his apartment, absently flicking through the pictures Molly had taken of the two of them earlier that evening. He’s paused on one of Molly smiling gleefully, mid-laugh as Caleb buries his face into the side of his neck when a message appears at the top of his screen that makes his stomach drop with guilt.

**_Caduceus Clay_** _: hey! Jester wanted to know if we wanted to go on another double date with her and Fjord this Saturday, want to go for lunch and a movie with them?_

**_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _wait is it a double date if they’re not technically dating?_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _anyway, want to go? :)_

Caleb hesitates at the thought of spending Friday with Molly, unsure of how late they’ll be out or what they’ll be doing after the show.

 _You got yourself into this mess_.

_Selfish, selfish, selfish._

He shakes his head, frowning.

 **_Caleb:_ ** _Sure, sounds like fun_

He’ll figure it out.

* * *

Molly shows up Friday evening shortly before eight to walk to the bar together, looking unfairly attractive in a pair of dark pants that hug his legs like a second skin and a cropped shirt that reveals an inch or two of his stomach under his coat, dark makeup around his eyes and elaborately laced boots that go to the top of his calves.

“What do you think?” he says, smirking at the way Caleb’s takes in his appearance.

“You look good,” Caleb says, flushing as Molly laughs and laces their fingers together.

“Come on,” he says and tugs Caleb down the street. “We want to get good seats.”

There are a few people milling around outside the bar when they approach, the low thud of music audible even on the sidewalk. Someone hails Molly and he waves back brightly but keeps his attention on Caleb as they pass the doorman and walk into the familiar interior. The pink and red confetti hearts from Valentine’s Day are gone though the various pride flags are still scattered in cups on the tables, bright pop music playing loudly from the speakers to mingle with the chatter of the already gathering crowd.

“I guess everyone is excited she’s performing again,” Molly says as they weave their way through the crowd towards an unoccupied table near the bar. “She got her cast off last week,” he explains when Caleb gives him a quizzical look.

Caleb nods absently as they sink into their chairs, feeling as out of place as he did the first time he’d come here with Molly, though it’s more comfortable than the last time, less formidable with Molly’s presence a reassuring one instead of intimidating.

“Mollymauk Tealeaf, you’ve got some nerve staying away this long.”

There’s a hand clapped to Molly’s shoulder and Caleb jumps and looks back to see Venus standing behind them looking crossly down at Molly.

“Like I told Irena, I’ve been busy,” Molly replies loftily. His arm slips around Caleb’s waist and a smug smirk plays across his lips.

Her eyebrows raise as she turns to Caleb, looking incredulous.

“No shit,” she says, folding her arms across her chest and grinning. “And how long has this been going on?”

“Few weeks,” Molly says, shrugging but looking pleased. “Officially, at least.”

“Wow, so you’re longest relationship by a few weeks?” Venus says, laughing when Molly scowls moodily. She ruffles his hair fondly and he swats her hand away, though he’s smiling. “ _Mazel tov_. I’ll get you kids a drink, on the house.”

Molly grins and turns back to Caleb as she heads to the bar for their drinks.

“Are you excited?” he says, squeezing Caleb around the middle. “Your first drag show!”

“Yeah,” Caleb replies, nodding and smiling. “I am actually. You know, I never really got exposed to this sort of thing growing up. I did not come out until I was 18 and the town I grew up in was not exactly kind to the scrawny foreigner, much less a bisexual one.”

Molly winces sympathetically and leans over to kiss his temple.

“That’s why I’m here,” he says loftily. “To _expose you_ to anything you want.” He winks and Caleb laughs quietly.

There’s the clink of glass on wood as Venus reappears and sets their drinks down, a beer for Caleb and the same unnaturally pink cocktail Molly had drank last time.

“You gotta pay for the next one,” Venus says sternly, pointing at Molly as he takes the skewer from his drink and begins sliding fruit off it to pop into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving her off. He grins at Caleb over the lip over his drink. “Oh!” he says as he sets the glass down again. “We’re working on painting the set pieces for the musical Monday, want to come help? Yasha and Beau will be there, too.”

“I can’t really paint,” Caleb says with a grimace.

“Oh, it’s nothing hard,” Molly says airily. “Just like, painting plywood and foam and stuff. It’s nothing detailed, we make the art people do that.”

“Alright, sure,” Caleb replies with a shrug, smiling when Molly beams happily.

“They should be printing the tickets soon,” Molly continues, taking another sip of his drink. “I’ll make sure to get you a front row seat, yeah?” He leans closer to Caleb, smirking. “And you can see that outfit you liked so much up close after the show.”

Heat prickles across Caleb’s cheeks at his words and the memory of Molly dressed in the red corset and stockings.

“We can ruin that one, too,” Molly murmurs, biting his lip as he settles back in his seat and stirs his drink absently with the skewer.

Caleb takes a swift gulp of his beer and glances around the room to distract himself, starting when he catches two patrons on the other side of the bar looking in their direction. He vaguely recognizes one from the last time Molly had brought him here but the other is unfamiliar. They turn away when he looks in their direction, one whispering something to the other behind his hand and both of them laughing. The sound makes Caleb flush with embarrassment and glance self-consciously at his own reflection in his glass, his pale, freckled face distorted slightly and blinking back at him.

He looks at Molly, who’s leaning forward on the table talking to someone he clearly knows at the next table over, tone bright and cheerful. Caleb feels the lurch of anxiety in his stomach and he reaches out to take Molly’s hand where it’s resting on the table.

Molly stops mid-sentence to turn to him curiously, expression turning concerned when he sees the look on Caleb’s face.

“You okay?” he says quietly, laying his other hand on top of Caleb’s. “Do we need to go?”

Caleb shakes his head, feeling calmed just from the warmth of Molly’s hands on his own. He smiles reassuringly. “I’m okay.”

Molly gives him another long, worried look before the tension leaves his shoulders and he turns back to his conversation, hands still cupping Caleb’s, his thumb rubbing lightly over his skin.

Caleb sips absently at his beer and goes back to peering around the filling room. It’s the complete opposite of _The Lavish Chateau_ , a mishmash of exuberant people dressed in loud colors, none of the stiffness of those he’d seen when he’d watch Jester’s mother perform. It makes him ache a little for what he’d missed growing up without this sort of thing around him, this clearly tight knit community that Molly has welcomed him into so readily, tried to make him feel comfortable in. He squeezes Molly’s hand briefly, smiling when Molly squeezes his fingers back in response.

There’s a sudden swell of catcalls and cheers and Caleb looks up to the stage to see Venus stepping up to the microphone.

“Alright, alright, shut up,” she says, scowling across the crowd until silence falls apart from a few scattered snickers. “We’ve got a full house tonight so I won’t stand up here and waste your time since we all know while you’re here.” A few people laughs and someone whistles loudly. “So please finally welcome back our _mostly_ recovered leading lady, Irena!” She sweeps her arm to the side and the room erupts in applause as Irena walks out onto the stage, limping slightly but grinning broadly, dressed in a bubblegum pink dress that nearly matches Venus’ hair. Venus kisses her on the cheek as she passes the microphone to her.

“Thank you, darling,” Irena says as Venus leaves the stage. She glances across the crowd, eyes flicking back to where Caleb and Molly are sitting after sweeping across their table before continuing on. “Now, I’m still a little unsteady on my feet, so if I fall, you’re catching me, honey.” She points to a man with bulging arms sitting at the table nearest the stage and a few people whoop loudly.

Molly leans closer to Caleb and murmurs in his ear, “Do you need another drink?” He nods to Caleb’s nearly empty beer.

Caleb shakes his head, turning to reply, “I am not very good around you when I drink.”

Molly chuckles and says, “Is that a bad thing? And are you saying you’re keeping your hands to yourself tonight? Because that sounds awfully boring.”

There’s a slow ballad beginning to play in the background, Irena lip-syncing along to the crooning voice, but Caleb’s attention is glued to Molly.

“Are you asking me not to keep my hands to myself?” Caleb says, lips brushing Molly’s ear with how close he is so he can hear him.

Molly grins and nips lightly at Caleb’s earlobe when he leans over to respond, “Darling, I never want you to keep your hands to yourself.” His tone softens as he continues, “I told you, it makes me feel close to you.”

Caleb feels a simultaneous shiver of arousal and a swell of affection at his words, turning to kiss him gently before facing forward again, cupping his glass in both hands and trying to focus on the performance even as this thoughts are fixed on Molly.

The ballad ends after a few minutes, followed by two more songs Caleb doesn’t recognize but that seem to be popular given the cheers when they begin playing. They’ve been there for nearly an hour, their drinks long since emptied, when a synthy, unfamiliar pop song begins filtering through the speakers, several people catcalling as Irena begins lip-syncing along with the introductory lines. He glances over to see Molly grinning faintly, his chin resting on his fist and his head bobbing absently and lips moving silently as the song kicks into the upbeat chorus. There's the faintest shimmer of glitter on his cheekbones that Caleb hadn’t noticed before, his lined eyes lazily hooded and posture relaxed.  
  
Caleb hesitates for a moment before slipping his hand under the table to skim his fingertips lightly over the back of Molly's knuckles where his other hand is resting on his leg under the table. Molly sits up a little straighter as he looks over to meet Caleb's gaze, eyebrows raised in question. Caleb smiles faintly and Molly's expression softens as he turns his hand in Caleb's to let their fingers tangle loosely together against Molly's thigh. He squeezes Caleb's hand before lifting it to his lips to press a lingering kiss to Caleb's knuckles, eyes never leaving him.  
  
Caleb feels a vague sense of disappointment when Molly releases his hand, though it’s only to scoot his chair closer so he can slide his arm around Caleb's waist, resting his chin on Caleb's shoulder and sighing softly as his lips brush against Caleb's ear. He's warm against Caleb's side, his other arm looping around Caleb's middle so he's embracing him loosely. He sings along with the song quietly in Caleb's ear, the lazy grin clear in his voice.  
  
Caleb smiles and turns his head slightly towards him so their temples bump together, the quiet jingle of Molly's jewelry tinkling in his ear. Molly tilts his head to the side so he can look at him, his hand sliding up Caleb's chest and cupping his jaw so he can pull him into a kiss. It's slow and deliberate, so unlike how Molly usually kisses him, somehow so incredibly intimate even in the crowded space that it makes his head spin. He leans back into Molly's touch and rests his hand lightly over Molly's where it's holding his jaw.  
  
Molly pulls back just enough to meet Caleb's eyes, searching Caleb's face briefly before tilting his head to the side towards the hall leading to the bathroom with a questioning look. Something reckless and impatient surges in Caleb's stomach and he nods, allowing Molly to tug him to his feet and drag him along by the hand through the crowd, the music still thumping loud in his ears. They've barely cleared the line of sight of the bar into the hall before Caleb is pushing Molly against the wall and kissing him, rough and familiar, his hands gripping Molly's hips. He feels Molly groan against his lips, one leg lifting to hook around Caleb's thigh and his arms wrapping around his shoulders.  
  
"I didn't peg you for such an exhibitionist but I'm totally on board with it," Molly breathes, smirking and tilting his head back with a soft moan when Caleb's hands slide under his shirt and up his stomach.  
  
"Nott's working tonight," Caleb murmurs into Molly's throat, trailing his lips over the soft skin.  
  
"What, too good for a dimly lit bathroom stall now?" Molly retorts playfully.

“I am not going to fuck you in a bathroom.”  
  
Molly’s eyes widen, mouth falling open in surprise at his bluntness.

“Oh,” he says a little breathlessly. “Well. Alright then. Your place?”  
  
“My place,” Caleb echoes, grinning as he kisses him a final time before taking hold of his hand and pulling him along behind him. The music has stopped, the crowd whooping and clapping for Irena as they weave their way through them towards the door. They burst out into the cool night air, Molly laughing bright and happy as he jogs behind him. Caleb’s stomach swoops pleasantly at the sound.

“Slow down!” Molly gasps, tugging on Caleb’s hand and pulling them both to a stop on the sidewalk under the yellow glow of a street lamp.  
  
Caleb can’t stop the giddy grin spreading across his face as Molly slips his arms around his waist and presses a closed mouth kiss to his lips, humming happily. He feels flush with alcohol and adrenaline and Molly’s warm exuberance. With the love he feels for him so strongly he thinks it must be radiating from him.

“No rush,” Molly murmurs. “We have all evening. Besides, I want to take my time with you tonight.”  
  
Caleb groans at the implication, the sound turning into a laugh as Molly kisses him and curves his spine back so he’s holding Caleb halfway into a dip.  
  
“Come on,” Molly says as he sets Caleb upright again. He clasps Caleb’s hand in his own as he sets off like its second nature.  
  
Molly pulls him into another kiss when they stop at the corner to wait for the light to change even though the road is empty apart from someone waiting to cross on the other side.  
  
"I can't wait to get my hands on you," Molly mutters, squeezing Caleb's hand and letting his other hand rest at the base of Caleb's spine.  
  
"What are you going to do to me?" Caleb replies between swift, greedy kisses.  
  
"Mm, whatever you want, darling," Molly purrs. He lapses into giggles and Caleb can't help but laugh along with him, tugging on his hand when the light for the crosswalk changes. Molly drops his hand and spreads his arms wide, twirling a little unsteadily in a circle as he walks, the tails of his coat fluttering out like the wings of a giant, multi-colored moth.  
  
"You are ridiculous," Caleb says fondly as Molly stops spinning and grins at him.  
  
Molly opens his mouth to respond but instead lets out a pained sound as the man crossing the street in the other direction shoulders roughly past him. Molly stops and turns on the spot to stare at the man in disbelief.  
  
"There's a whole street here, pal!" he says, holding his arms out. "Hey, dickweed, I'm talking to you!" He takes an angry step towards the man when he keeps walking.  
  
"Molly," Caleb says warningly, pulling on the sleeve of Molly's coat.  
  
"Oh, I get it," Molly says, shrugging Caleb off and letting out a humorless laugh. "Can't stand seeing two  _queers_ out in the open, is that it?"  
  
The man stops walking and looks back at Molly with a disgusted look.  
  
Molly laughs again, cold and incredulous. "Pathetic," he sneers.  
  
The man narrows his eyes and takes a menacing step back towards them.  
  
"Molly," Caleb says again, panic creeping up the edges of his brain. The man isn't huge, but he's bigger than both of them and he's not ready to stick around to see how angry Molly can make him. "Come on, let's just go."  
  
"I bet you feel so _manly_ ," Molly continues, ignoring Caleb and taking a step towards the man. "Do you beat up twinks for fun or do only do that when you have a group with you?"  
  
"Molly, stop," Caleb mutters nervously.  
  
"You know I let him fuck me last week," Molly says, smirking as he jerks his head in Caleb’s direction. "I might let him do it again tonight if he's lucky."  
  
"Molly, _please_ , just drop it," Caleb begs, glancing desperately at the bar half a block behind them and willing someone to walk out of it.  
  
"So do you just hate queers?" Molly says, ignoring him and taking another swaggering step towards the man. "Or are you just so sexually repressed you hate anyone who's getting s—"  
  
There's a resounding crack and he staggers back, turning almost one hundred and eighty degrees as the man punches him across the jaw.  
  
"Fuck!" Caleb shouts, running to Molly's side as he stumbles on his own feet and falls to his knees with a stunned expression. "Oh my god, are you okay?"  
  
" _Fuuuuck_ ," Molly grits through his teeth, clutching the side of his face as the man gives them one more disgusted look before sprinting off into the darkness. Molly works his jaw, grimacing, and spits out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement. He drags the back of his hand roughly across his mouth, smearing blood over his lips and cheek.  
  
" _Fuck_ , that hurts," he groans. He staggers to his feet and takes an unsteady step in the direction the man had disappeared. "Yeah, that's right, asshole, run away! Prick!" He cups his hands to his mouth. "I fucked your mother and she was awful!" He winces and holds his jaw in one hand again, rubbing the spot. "S _hit_."  
  
"Come on," Caleb mutters, tugging on his arm. "Let's go inside, I'm sure we can—"  
  
"No," Molly says firmly, shaking his head. "I'm not going in there to get _coddled_."  
  
"Fine," Caleb snaps, irritation flaring inside him. "Then you can come back to my place and get scolded instead."  
  
"Mm, fun," Molly says, grinning lopsidedly as he trails behind Caleb, still rubbing at his jaw where the skin is already starting to turn a deeper shade of purple. "Are you gonna spank me, too?"  
  
He falls silent at the sharp look Caleb gives him, not speaking for the rest of the trip to Caleb's apartment during which Caleb silently seethes, almost unsteady with the rush of terrified adrenaline. He's still shaking by the time they reach the apartment, fingers trembling so much he can barely fumble his key into the lock.  
  
"Go wait in my room," he mutters when they finally get inside. "I'll get some ice."  
  
Molly obeys him, stopping only to pat Frumpkin when he trots into the living room to give them both a curious look. Caleb goes to the kitchen, shutting doors and drawers with more force than necessary as he goes about filling a plastic bag with ice and wetting a dishcloth. His fingers are shaking so badly he drops the bag on the floor, banging his hands on the counter and swearing as ice spills across the linoleum. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing down the burn in his throat before bending down to scoop the ice back in the bag. He swipes hastily at his eyes and makes his way back the hall.  
  
Molly is sitting on the edge of his bed when he enters the bedroom, coat shed, picking at his fingernails with a bored look. He grins when Caleb enters, grimacing at the pain in his rapidly swelling jaw, expression turning timid when Caleb doesn't return his smile. Caleb feels his fear and anger abate at the sight of the dark bruising slowly spreading across Molly’s skin, sighing as he sits next to Molly and gestures from him to turn towards him.

“Tilt your head,” he says gently.  
  
He wipes the wet cloth carefully across Molly's lips and along his jaw, examining the thin cut likely made be a ring across his cheek. He can feel Molly watching him closely but keeps his eyes focused on cleaning up the rest of the blood before wrapping the ice pack in another, dry cloth.  
  
"Why are you so damn reckless?" Caleb grouses, mumbling an apology when Molly winces in pain as he presses the ice against his cheek.  
  
"Coming from the guy who was dry-humping me outside a public bathroom half an hour ago," Molly counters, smirking and immediately grunting in pain.  
  
Caleb clucks his tongue and adjusts the ice pack to look at the bruise blooming across Molly's face. It’s an ugly stain of red and purple so dark it’s almost black across Molly’s smooth skin.  
  
"That's different," he says, tone severe. "I wasn't antagonizing someone who could hurt me like this."  
  
" _I_ could hurt you like this," Molly replies suggestively. "If you asked nicely."  
  
"Molly, this is serious," Caleb snaps, watching the grin slide from Molly's face as anger bubbles up in his chest again. He doesn't understand why Molly can't grasp what he's telling him, why he has to make a joke out of everything when he's sitting bleeding on Caleb's bed with a swollen jaw. Caleb is still terrified of what could have happened. He’s seen enough on the news to know what people like that can do to people like them. The thought of Molly bloody and beaten makes bile rise in his throat and his vision blur with tears.  
  
"I know," Molly says after a long beat of silence, voice small. "I know it's serious, Caleb. Do you think I don't know after what happened to me?" He wets his lips and swallows, suddenly looking distressed.  
  
Something cold drops into Caleb's stomach. "Molly, I didn't mean—"  
  
"I didn't tell you before," Molly begins, voice still uncharacteristically quiet. "My accident... it wasn’t really an accident. When I woke up, I was in the alley behind a bar. Not that one but... it was another gay bar somewhere else in the city. I don't know how I got in or if I did or—I was only 16, so..." he trails off, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I wasn't, um, I wasn't in good shape when I woke up, Caleb. Oh, no, not like that," he says hurriedly at the look of horror on Caleb's face as his mind supplies a dozen different scenarios for what might have happened. "They didn't—I was just beat to hell. I had to walk to the hospital and I didn’t know who I was or what happened and..." He inhales shakily. "So, I _know_ how bad it can be, Caleb. And I know I should shut my mouth sometimes but I'm proud of who I am and I'm not going to let anyone give me shit for it. I don’t know who I was before but I know who I want to be now and it’s someone who’s not afraid of assholes like that.”

His jaw is set resolutely, eyes almost challenging, and Caleb feels something akin to pride replace the aggravation.  
  
"Well, you're much braver than I am," he says, sighing a little resignedly. He brushes his fingers lightly over the bruise and smiles.  
  
"That's why you've got me for that," Molly replies. He looks faintly relieved, eyes still wide and vulnerable as he tilts his head into Caleb's hand. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, _Schatz_ ,” Caleb murmurs. “I’m sorry, I was just… scared. The thought of you being hurt…” He tries not to think about the idea of a 16 year old Molly battered and bruised, scared and alone trying to figure out his place in the world, in his own body.

“You know how important you are to me, don’t you?” Caleb says, gently tucking a few loose curls behind Molly’s ear.

Molly wets his lips, eyes fixed on his hands, and Caleb can’t stand the pained look in his eyes.

“Molly,” he says, touching his fingers under his chin so he looks up at him. “I love you. I love you, and I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

The silence as he finishes saying this is absolute, Molly staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s not sure he heard Caleb correctly. He licks his lips, blinking rapidly and shaking his head a little.

“You love me?” he whispers, hopeful and timid.

Caleb nods and Molly’s lips quiver, his eyes rapidly welling with tears that spill down his cheeks before Caleb has a chance to react.

“Molly, what—”

“I love you, too,” Molly says, voice thick with tears. He laughs, wet but relieved and happy. He grips Caleb’s face in both hands and kisses him hard, laughing against his lips as he pulls back, smiling so brightly it makes Caleb’s chest ache.

Molly’s smile falls and his eyes flick over Caleb’s face nervously.

“I wanted to say it,” he says, “for so long. On the Ferris wheel and… and when you said you were falling in love with me. I’ve loved you for so long and I’m… I’m so afraid I’m not going to be good at it, Caleb. I don’t… I don’t want to let you down.”

“Molly, I told you, I don’t know what I’m doing either.” He carefully wipes away the tear tracts on Molly’s face with his thumb. “But we can learn together, yeah?”

Molly smiles, nodding. “I’d like that.”

He kisses Caleb softly, fingers trailing up his chest to the collar of his shirt. He sighs against Caleb’s lips, smiling and making a small, pleased sound in his throat.

“I love you,” he whispers. “ _Caleb."_

It's unhurried as he unbuttons Caleb's shirt and pushes it back off his shoulders, the faint undercurrent of want in the languid way he kisses him. He breaks away only for a moment to pull his own shirt over his head, gaze heavy as he rests his forehead against Caleb's briefly before kissing him again.

The air is thick and quiet between them apart from the soft, wet sound of their lips and the rush of shared breath. Molly's fingers dance across Caleb's skin, sliding up his chest and over his shoulders to pull him down with him as he leans back into the pillows. His leg hooks lightly around Caleb's hips but there is no urgency behind it. His hands tangle loosely in Caleb's hair as he exhales a soft, contented sigh.  
  
"Caleb," he murmurs, voice soft and pleading. He looks up at Caleb and the unspoken request hangs heavy between them.  
  
"Are you sure?" Caleb says, ghosting his fingers over Molly's jaw worriedly. “I don’t want you hurting.”  
  
"I’m sure," Molly breathes, closing his eyes and grazing their lips together. He exhales softly and slides his hands down to rest on the nape of Caleb’s neck. “I need you close to me.”  
  
"Okay," Caleb says, nodding and dropping a brief kiss to the corner of Molly's lips before pulling away. Molly whines a little as he moves back, hand lingering on Caleb's waist and eyes fixed on him as he digs through his nightstand with fumbling fingers.  
  
"No," Molly says quietly when Caleb tears a condom off the strip, gripping Caleb's wrist. "I want to feel you."  
  
Caleb stares at him, thrown by the request. "O-oh, um—"  
  
"Oh... okay, no, it... it’s fine we can use one, sorry."  
  
Any trace of hesitance he's feeling evaporates at the pained look on Molly's face.  
  
"No—I mean, _ja_ , we don’t need to use one," Caleb says, leaning down to kiss him reassuringly when a relieved look passes over his face. "If you're sure."  
  
"So sure," Molly murmurs, nodding.  
  
Caleb breaks away again to toss the condom back in the drawer. Molly kisses him hard when he returns, that same heady feeling of intimacy leaving Caleb feeling off-balance. His fingers shake a little with nervous energy as he pulls off the rest of his clothes. Molly breathes out a quiet, fond laugh when Caleb struggles with the clasps of his tall boots, finally tossing them onto the floor and climbing back up the bed to catch Molly's lips against his own as he undoes the button on his pants. Molly lifts his hips and pushes the fabric down his legs to kick them off, leaving them both bare.  
  
Molly lets out a shuddering sigh when Caleb settles on top of him and rocks his hips gently, watching the way his lips fall open and his spine bows up from the sheets. The alcohol has long since left his system but he feels drunk off the way Molly moves beneath him, the feel of his warm skin against his own. Caleb sits back on his knees, running one hand down Molly's chest and allowing himself a moment to drink in the sight of him. He can only just make out his shape in the dim light of the distant street lamp filtering through the curtains, the gentle glow of his skin and softened edges of his body, like a camera turned just out of focus. Caleb can see his eyes though, deep, blood red and gleaming where they’re fixed on him.  
  
Molly watches, one hand resting on Caleb's knee, as he slicks his fingers, rubbing them together to warm them before gently pushing Molly's legs apart further. He yields easily, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. His eyes slide shut, head tilting back with an almost exultant sigh as Caleb presses two fingers inside of him. Caleb grazes his lips up the inside of Molly's thigh, watching his expression melt into one of muted pleasure.  
  
He whines and fists his hands into the sheets when Caleb curls his fingers inside of him, feeling the tense muscle give and relax under his touch. He kisses Molly’s hipbone, his navel, lets his lips brush feather-light over the head of his cock, Molly whining needily under him. It doesn't take long until Molly is breathing hard, hips rocking against Caleb's fingers and cock hard against his stomach.  
  
" _Caleb_."  
  
Caleb's name falls from his lips breathy and pleading, shoulders pushing back into the pillows as his back arches and his whole body trembles. Caleb pulls his fingers out and coats himself with more lube before pushing into Molly in one smooth movement, Molly releasing a trembling, pitched, “ _fuck_ ,” beneath him as he does. He closes his eyes and swears quietly at the feeling of Molly around him with nothing between them. He captures Molly's lips in a kiss when his brow furrows faintly, the tension quickly softening from his face as he kisses Caleb back, whining against his lips. His legs wrap around Caleb's hips, his hands searching out Caleb's where they're pressed into the mattress and lacing their fingers together so his hands are pinned against the bed.  
  
Caleb groans at the pressure around him and rolls his hips in long, fluid movements. He watches Molly's face, the tiny shifts in his expression as he fucks him, the part of his lips as he exhales shakily, the flutter of his dark eyelashes when Caleb sinks into him.  
  
“ _Du siehst umwerfend aus_ ,” Caleb murmurs, grazing his lips up the side of Molly’s neck and lightly nipping at his earlobe. “ _Deine Augen sind wunderschön, Schatz._ ”  
  
Molly shivers beneath him, eyes rolling back and hips rocking up to meet his thrusts.  
  
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, lips quivering with each shuddering breath. His fingers tighten around Caleb’s, fingernails digging into his skin. “ _Fuck, Caleb_.”  
  
“ _Du klingst so gut_. You sound so good. You are so beautiful, _Schatz._ You feel so good, Molly. _God_ , I love you so much.”  
  
He catches Molly’s lips in a deep kiss, groaning when Molly’s tongue brushes against his own. The room is quiet apart from the gentle creak of the bed frame beneath them, soft grunts of exertion and hushed gasps mingled together with the wet sound of their lips in the stillness.  
  
Molly's legs tighten around him when he comes with a soft, shuddering sigh, his lips warm and pliant against Caleb's as he kisses him through it, focusing on the tight heat around his cock and groaning as his own orgasm rushes through him not long after.  
  
He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against Molly's, breathing heavily and feeling his arms shake with the effort to hold his weight upright when all he wants to do is collapse in a heap. His breathing levels out, heartbeat slowing gradually. He grimaces as he slips out of Molly, who whines quietly. His eyes are still closed, chest rising and falling with each slow breath.  
  
"Hey," Caleb murmurs, bumping his nose against Molly's gently.  
  
Molly's eyes crack open a few millimeters and he smiles contentedly.  
  
"You okay?" Caleb says, watching his face carefully.  
  
Molly hums, nodding.  
  
“Fabulous,” he mumbles a little dazedly. He whines in protest when Caleb untangles their fingers and sits up. Caleb can't help but stare at the way his come leaks out of him onto the sheets, slick and opaque against Molly's lavender skin.  
  
“You’re ruining the glow,” Molly grumbles, reaching for him as he pulls a few tissues from the box on the bedside table to wipe gently at the drying mess on Molly’s stomach. He grabs another handful to clean up the spreading stain on the sheets, muttering an apology when Molly whimpers as he gently wipes him off.  
  
“You’ll thank me when you don’t wake up sticky,” Caleb says. He tosses the tissues in the trash and drops a kiss to Molly’s stomach just below his navel. Molly watches with a faint smile as he peppers soft kisses across his stomach and hips.  
  
“Go any lower and I’ll need a few minutes to recuperate,” he says, grinning and stretching languidly. He makes a low, satisfied noise, wincing slightly, and reaches for Caleb.  
  
“You’re not hurting, are you?” Caleb says as he lays down facing him, brushing back a few loose curls of hair falling over his forehead.  
  
“Mm, no, I’m good,” Molly replies. Caleb runs his fingers lightly over the base of his horns and he closes his eyes with a quiet, content sound. “What were you saying? In German?”

“Oh, um…” Caleb flushes a little at the reminder. “Just that you look beautiful and… and that sort of thing.”

Molly smiles serenely. “Mm, I liked it,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

Caleb smiles and traces his fingertips along the peacock feathers inked across Molly’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

“Caleb?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Molly opens his eyes, lips parting as he inhales like he’s about to speak, eyes searching Caleb's face. He hesitates and Caleb gives him a questioning look, fingers combing through his hair.  
  
“Um...” he purses lips together and exhales through his nostrils. “Could I have some water?”  
  
Caleb chuckles and pushes himself into a sitting position.  
  
“Of course.” He presses a kiss to Molly’s temple before sliding out of bed and tugging on his boxers. He pads down the hall to the kitchen and fills a glass at the sink. He drains it in three gulps and refills it before heading back to the bedroom, stopping to scratch Frumpkin behind the ears where he’s curled on his cat bed in the hall.  
  
He pauses at the doorway, smiling when he sees Molly fast asleep on his side, legs curled up slightly. Caleb sets the glass on the nightstand and gently drapes the blanket over Molly’s sleeping form, kissing his hair softly. He hesitates before locking the bedroom door, not interested in Nott wandering in and having a heart attack.  
  
He crawls under the blanket behind Molly, propping himself up on his arm and gazing fondly down at him. The bruise on his jaw is a dark, angry maroon color. Caleb grimaces sympathetically as he ghost his fingertips over the spot. When Molly sighs and smacks his lips quietly in his sleep, Caleb kisses the tip of his ear and shuffles closer to line his front to Molly’s back. He curls one arm loosely around Molly’s waist and closes his eyes as he nuzzles the back of his neck, inhaling the warm smell of his cologne. He kisses the nape of Molly’s neck, listening to the steady sound of his breathing as he drifts to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your wonderful comments <3
> 
> Have a fantastic week!


	21. Chapter 21

He wakes to something warm and solid against his chest, slowly blinking his eyes open and yawning, his arm automatically wrapping tighter around whatever it is he’s holding. It takes a few seconds for his brain to process that the thing curled against his chest is a body and that the body is Molly’s. They’re in the same position they were when they fell asleep, Caleb pressed against Molly’s back with on arm slung around his waist. Their legs are tangled together under the sheets, Molly’s tail wrapped loosely around Caleb’s calf.  
  
Caleb smiles sleepily and buries his nose in Molly’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle, fingers splayed across his rib cage. He feels indescribably warm, a smile spreading across his face, his lips pressed against Molly’s skin. He remembers Molly is still naked when his hand slides down his stomach to rest on the bony curve of his hip and feels his cock stir with interest. He kisses the nape of Molly’s neck and trails the tips of his fingers experimentally over the sensitive skin along the inside of Molly’s thigh.   
  
Molly stirs after a minute of Caleb brushing his fingers slowly up and down his thigh, groaning quietly. He shifts his hips back to press his ass against Caleb’s groin, making a soft sound of interest when Caleb groans and mouths at the back of his neck. He rolls over in Caleb’s arms to face him, eyes still heavy and grinning sleepily.   
  
“Good morning to you, too, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. He bites his lip as he slides his hand between them and squeezes Caleb’s hardening cock.   
  
Caleb makes a soft, needy noise in his throat and leans forward to kiss him only for Molly to stop him with a finger on his lips.   
  
“As much as I’d love to see where this goes,” Molly says. “I have got to take a shower before things start growing on me.”   
  
“Tease,” Caleb mutters as Molly pulls away from him and crawls out of bed. Caleb watches appreciatively as he stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied sigh, silhouetted by the pale morning light coming through the curtains.   
  
Molly drags one of the sheets off the bed and drapes it around himself, gathering up the extra fabric and slinging it over his shoulder like a makeshift toga.   
  
“You know,” he says, pausing at the door to glance back at Caleb. “You could join me if you want.”   
  
He laughs quietly when Caleb hurries to untangle himself from the blankets and follow after him, the two of them peeking down the hall and shushing each other as they tiptoe to the bathroom, snickering like teenagers trying not to get caught by their parents. Caleb tugs off his boxers as they wait for the water to warm and pushes the sheet off Molly’s shoulder. He grimaces at the dark bruise across Molly’s jaw. When clouds of steam have fogged the chipped mirror, they step under the warm spray together, Molly groaning as the hot water hits his skin.   
  
He lets Caleb carefully examine the bruise and small cut on his jaw, leaning into his hand, before turning to face away from him, passing him the shampoo and gesturing to his hair with a questioning look. Caleb washes his hair, massaging his fingers into his scalp and kissing along his shoulder as Molly sighs contentedly and tilts his head back. Caleb mouths wetly along the side of his neck as he reaches down to wrap his fingers around his cock, Molly whining and leaning back into him as he does.

It’s unhurried as Caleb gets him off with lazy strokes of his fist, steam furling around them and making the air thick in their lungs, little rivulets of bubbles rinsing from Molly’s hair and streaming across his shoulders as water spills over them. When Molly comes into his hand with a shaky sigh, he twists his head around to kiss Caleb languidly, water slipping over their lips and tongues.   
  
Molly turns and presses a final kiss to his neck before sinking down onto his knees and swallowing Caleb down without a second thought. His hair is plastered to his face, eyes closed and color high on his cheeks. Caleb moans and shuts his eyes, letting his head fall back, water rushing across his face. His fingers slide through Molly’s wet hair and over his horns, holding him in place when he comes down his throat soon after.   
  
He pulls Molly to his feet and kisses him, fingers trailing absently over his wet skin. He squeezes soap onto both their palms and they lazily scrub each other clean, occasionally exchanging lax, open-mouthed kisses. They towel each other off, little curls of steam rising off their skin. The whole ordeal feels so incredibly intimate, so domestic, that Caleb can’t help but pull Molly into a deep kiss that leaves them both a little breathless.   
  
Caleb wraps a towel around his waist and Molly drapes the sheet around himself again, Caleb checking that the coast is clear before they both duck back into Caleb’s bedroom, locking the door behind them.   
  
“It’s nice, you know?” Molly says absently as they’re pulling on their clothes, Caleb lending him a clean sweatshirt in place of his own wrinkled shirt.   
  
“What is?” Caleb says as he helps slip the sweatshirt over Molly’s horns. Something protective and pleased blooms in his stomach at the thought of Molly in his clothes, smelling of his soap and shampoo.   
  
Molly shrugs as he tugs down the hem of the sweatshirt, his hair mussed. He grimaces as he begins untangling the jewelry on his horns, never having removed it the night before. “I guess... Usually when I sleep with someone, it’s like a race to see who can get off first. It’s nice when it’s... not that.”   
  
He smiles crookedly at Caleb, bright and happy, and Caleb can’t stop himself from kissing him again. His phone buzzes where he’d left it on the bedside table and he squeezes Molly’s hip before going to sit on the edge of the bed and pick his phone up to read the message on the screen.   
  
**_Caduceus Clay_ ** : _Jester says she wants to meet at her place at noon, can I come to yours at 11:30 and we can walk together? I miss you and can’t wait to see you :)_   
  
Caleb glances at the clock and swears quietly when he realizes it’s already almost 11. Molly finishes fixing his jewelry and settles on the bed behind him, arms slipping around his waist. His pushes aside Caleb’s wet hair to kiss the side of his neck before hooking his chin over his shoulder. Caleb feels a sickening surge of guilt at the tenderness of the gesture.   
  
“Everything okay?” Molly says, peering over his shoulder absently.   
  
“I, um—I completely forgot, I’m—“   
  
He feels Molly still against him as he seems to see the message on his screen and Caleb feels another rush of shame.   
  
“Molly—“   
  
“It’s okay,” Molly says in a voice so falsely cheery Caleb hates himself. He unwraps his arms from around Caleb and pushes himself to his feet to begin gathering his things.   
  
“Molly...”   
  
“It’s fine,” Molly says, smiling at him in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Really. I should get going anyway. I’ve got...” He trails off like he’s searching for an excuse, sighing after a few seconds of silence and not meeting Caleb’s eyes. “I’ve got other stuff to do.”   
  
Caleb opens his mouth to say something but the words die in his throat. What the hell is he supposed to say? _Sorry, I have to kick you out after we spent the night together because I’m going on a date with someone else, who I also care about so much it scares me._   
  
You’re disgusting.

_You don’t deserve this and you’re still pissing it away._

“Molly,” he says desperately, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that has been growing slowly louder and moving to Molly’s side as he turns to leave. “Is this—are you—talk to me, _Schatz._ ”

Molly doesn’t look at him at first, eyes flicking fretfully over the carpet before finally meeting Caleb’s.

“I guess I’m just… still getting used to it,” he says, smiling stiffly.

“Molly—“

“I’m okay,” Molly says. He takes a breath and offers Caleb a familiar grin. “Really. We’re still on for Monday, though, right?”

“Of course,” Caleb replies quietly. “Come here.” He tugs on Molly’s hand and wraps his arms around him to embrace him firmly, feeling Molly sighing contentedly as he mirrors his movement and tucks his chin over Caleb’s shoulder.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Caleb murmurs, squeezing him tighter when Molly hums in response. “I need to know if you’re not. If this is hurting you—”

“‘M’good,” Molly mutters. “Don’t worry your pretty head over me, darling.” He pulls back, smiling, and kisses Caleb chastely.

Caleb isn’t sure he believes him but he can sense Molly closing himself off so he captures his lips in another kiss, guilt burning in his stomach as Molly smiles against his lips before stepping back.

“Text me later if you get a chance, yeah?” Molly says as he finished gathering his things and moves to the door.

Caleb nods, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile when Molly blows him a kiss before stepping out into the hall. Caleb hears the front door creak open and closed and sits down hard on the edge of the mattress, dragging his fingers through his hair. He knows he can’t keep doing this for much longer, guilt eating at his insides every time he sees the light behind Molly’s eyes dim or hears the hesitance in Caduceus’ voice.

“You are so fucking _selfish_ ,” he grits around the lump growing in his throat. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly through his nose to calm the nervous tick of his heartbeat, will away the acidic taste in his mouth. He sits for a few minutes trying to center himself before he finishes getting ready, curling up on the couch with Frumpkin until there’s a knock at the door.

Caduceus smiles broadly at the sight of him when he opens the door and Caleb’s stomach flips happily at the sight.

“Hey,” he says, warm and automatically calming Caleb’s nervous energy.

“Good morning,” Caleb replies, pushing up on his toes to kiss him.

“Look what bloomed,” Caduceus says excitedly when they break apart, lifting his hand to hold a short-stemmed, delicate white flower out to Caleb. It’s petals are still furled in a tight spiral at the center, the outer ring curled outward, the full bloom only a few inches across.

“Oh, is that the one you fixed?” Caleb says as he accepts the flower and raises it absently to smell it, the sweet, heady smell of it filling his nose so strongly he’s taken aback.

“Yeah, the gardenia,” Caduceus replies happily. “I’ve been watching it, hoping it would bloom so I could give you the first one.”

“It’s very strong,” Caleb says as another whiff of the perfumed scent wafts up from the flower. “I like it, though.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty popular smell for candles and stuff,” Caduceus says with a shrug. “My whole room smelled like it this morning. So you like it?”

Caleb looks up at the hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I do,” he says, nodding. “Here, look, I’ll…” He unbuttons the pocket of his shirt and slips the stem of the flower through the buttonhole, smiling when Caduceus looks pleased. “What’s this one mean?”

Caduceus makes a thoughtful noise as he takes Caleb’s hand and they begin walking in the direction of Jester’s house. “I think it has a lot of meanings. Purity, secret love, trust, that sort of thing.” He shrugs absently. “I just like the way they smell.”

Caleb laughs, leaning against his side a little as they walk. The warmth from the previous weekend has persisted with the arrival of April, bright pink and white dogwood trees heavily blooming where they’re planted every forty feet or so along the row of townhouses where Beau and Jester live, leaving the sidewalk mottled with sunlight and scattered with petals.

Jester and Fjord are waiting on the stairs when they reach the corner, Jester waving cheerfully as they approach. There’s a stiffness to Fjord’s jaw when he nods to Caleb that makes his stomach churn unpleasantly the entire walk to the movie theater.

They pay for their tickets and take seats at the back of the nearly empty theater. Caduceus keeps their fingers twined together for the first half of the movie, his thumb rubbing slow, distracting circles over the back of Caleb’s hand. They’re an hour or so into the movie when Caduceus untangles their fingers and instead slips his arm around Caleb’s shoulders, leaning towards him and lowering his head so he can speak quietly into his ear.

“Are you free the rest of the day?” he murmurs softly enough that Jester will not hear him on his other side, the deep rumble of his voice sending a shiver up Caleb’s spine.

“Mm, _ja_ , why?” Caleb responds.

“Want to come back to my dorm afterwards?” His fingers are trailing lightly up and down Caleb’s bicep and Caleb is finding it hard to focus on anything but that and the low timbre of his voice.

Caleb turns his head to give him a significant, questioning look, and Caduceus eyes widen.

“Oh, no,” he whispers hastily, “I mean, sure we can—but I wasn’t—I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you.”

“What do _you_ want to do?” Caleb says, tilting his head up to whisper directly into Caduceus’ ear, his arm tightening around his shoulders as he says it.

“Maybe not today,” Caduceus breathes. “I want to again, just… maybe not today.”

“Then we will not today,” Caleb says, smiling and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Caduceus smiles gratefully and Caleb leans into his touch, resting his head in the crook of his arm for the remainder of the movie.

They stop at a cafe after the movie for lunch, Caleb pointedly avoiding Fjord’s gaze though he can feel his eyes on him every now and then as the four of them chat about school and their plans for the upcoming summer.

“And Caduceus, your sister is getting married soon, right?” Jester says brightly, resting her chin on her fists as she talks.

“Yeah, three more weeks, actually,” Caduceus says, nodding.

“That’ll be a fun date!” Jester says, looking to Caleb and grinning eagerly.

“Oh, um—”

“We haven’t really—”

Caleb wets his lips anxiously when he and Caduceus speak simultaneously. Caduceus hasn’t brought up the subject of Claribel’s wedding since they’d started their relationship and Caleb has left it rest of the assumption that he either decided to rescind the invitation or that it was too late to add Caleb to the guest list.

“Aren’t you going?” Jester asks. She cocks her head curiously to the side, frowning.

“Jester, it’s three weeks before the wedding, I would not want to impose on Caduceus’ family,” Caleb says, giving her a pointed look.

“You’re not imposing,” Caduceus says, looking faintly confused.

“Well, there you go!” Jester says happily, clapping her hands together. “Caleb, you should let me help pick out your suit! Caduceus, what colors are—”

“Jester,” Caleb cuts over her curtly. “I think this is for Caduceus and I to discuss.”

“But—”

“Jester,” Fjord says warningly.

Caleb glances at him but his eyes are fixed sternly on Jester, who huffs and folds her arms across her chest, looking chastised. The air at the table goes oddly tense, Caduceus bowing his head over his plate and poking at his food, eyes flicking to Caleb, who squeezes his leg reassuringly and mouths ‘ _we will talk_ ’ to him.

“I have an idea!” Jester says excitedly after a minute or two, seemingly no longer able to tolerate the strained silence. She turns to Fjord and grips his arm. “Fjord, you can get into the pool, right?”

“It’s closed now but, yeah, why?” Fjord replies warily.

Jester’s face splits into a mischievous grin and she leans forward conspiratorially.

“We should sneak in,” she whispers, “and go skinny dipping.”

Fjord immediately flushes and splutters, “No, _no_ , absolutely not, Jester.”

“Aw, _come on_ ,” Jester pleads, shaking him by the arm. “It’ll be fun!”

Caleb exchanges a glances with Caduceus, who shrugs, and Caleb remembers how nonchalant he’d been about Caleb seeing him naked before they’d gotten together.

“We’ll do it,” Caleb chimes in, Fjord and Jester falling silent mid-argument to stare at him.

“ _See_ ,” Jester says triumphantly, poking Fjord in the shoulder. “Don’t be a spoilsport, _Fjord_.”

“Jester, I could get in trouble if we get caught,” Fjord mutters, color still staining his cheeks.

“Then we won’t get caught, duh,” Jester says as if this is obvious.

Fjord heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“Fine,” he mumbles reluctantly. “But only for a few minutes, okay?”

Jester cheers and leaps to her feet eagerly. They throw their trash away and follow her outside as she hurries them back to campus to the currently silent building where the pool is, still closed for the season outside of swim team practice.

Fjord leads them to the doors leading to the locker rooms, slipping small ring of keys from his pocket and using one of them to unlock it and let them inside. He glances over his shoulder as they slip inside, shutting the door behind them. Fjord grabs a pile of towels from the supply closet, tossing one to each of them—except for Caduceus, who he gives two.

“Last one in is a big pile of dog poop!” Jester shouts as she runs out of the locker room, kicking off her shoes as she goes. There’s a distant splash after a few seconds and Caduceus chuckles as he toes off his own shoes.

“You better hurry, Fjord,” Caleb says, slipping out of his button-down and tugging his t-shirt over his head, Fjord staring unmoving after Jester with a conflicted look. “You do not want to be a big pile of dog poop, do you?”

Fjord clucks his tongue but sits on one of the benches to unlace his shoes.

“Come on, you big babies!” Jester’s voice echoes from the pool.

Caduceus shucks his shirt over his head and pushes his jeans down his hips and Caleb sees Fjord still out of the corner of his eye as Caduceus piles his clothes on the bench.

“Go ahead,” Caleb says as Caduceus wraps a towel around his waist and gives him a questioning look. “Be out in a second.”

He nods and heads through the hall to the pool and Caleb glances at Fjord to see him still staring after him with a look of wide-eyed disbelief and what might be understanding. His gaze shifts to Caleb who, feeling bold, simply shrugs despite the heat rising in his cheeks, and follows after Caduceus, a towel tucked around his middle.

Caduceus is bobbing in the water when he emerges from the lockers, his hair plastered to the side of his face, Jester paddling a few feet from him. The smell of chlorine hits Caleb’s nose, the concrete cool beneath his bare feet as he walks to the edge of the pool and sits, his feet dangling in the water. It’s surprisingly warm against his skin and he kicks his legs absently, smiling as Caduceus swims towards him, his long limbs distorted slightly underwater and the rippling light playing across his face. He stops in front of Caleb, standing easily with his shoulders and head out of the water even in the deep water.

“Show off,” Caleb mutters, grinning when Caduceus rests his hands on his knees and tilts his head up to kiss him. He undoes the towel where it’s tucked into itself at Caleb’s hip and helps him ease into the water, Caleb gasping as the sudden coolness on the skin of his stomach and chest that raises goosebumps over every inch of him as he sinks in almost to his chin before his toes touch the bottom.

Caduceus lowers himself further into the water so he’s at Caleb’s eye level, swimming closer to him until he can reach out underwater and touch his hand lightly to Caleb’s. Caleb can hear Fjord and Jester talking on the other side of the pool but his attention is completely focused on Caduceus as he tugs on his hand, giving him a meaningful look before inhaling a deep lungful of air and ducking his head underwater. Caleb hesitates a moment before taking a deep breath and sinking below the surface with him, lips pressed together and eyes blinking open despite the slight burn of the chlorine.

Caduceus grins back at him, his hair floating weightlessly around his face in a wave of pale pink, jewel-bright light dancing across his skin and the occasional bubble of air slipping passed his lips and rising upwards. He pushes forward towards Caleb and cups the back of his head to pull him into a kiss. It’s a little strange, his lungs rapidly beginning to burn at the lack of oxygen and the temptation to suck in breath as air rushes out of his lungs and Caduceus’ lips slide easily against his own, the surrounding sounds muted so all he can hear is the rush of blood in his own ears. It’s bizarre yet somehow incredibly intimate without being sexual, his body protesting every second he continues to stay there even when his lungs are empty and he knows he needs to breathe, though he doesn’t want to stop kissing Caduceus, thinks this might be an okay way to go.

He gives in eventually though, pushing himself up to break the water with a whoosh of air as he inhales sharply, Caduceus splashing to the surface immediately after, though he’s not breathing quite as hard as Caleb, flushed but smiling. Caleb wipes water from his eyes and pushes his sopping hair off his face, laughing when Caduceus shakes his head like a dog, his ears flapping as he does it.

“That was weird,” he says, looking down at Caleb. “I liked it.”

“Me too,” Caleb says with another laugh.

“Get a room!” Jester shouts from the opposite side of the pool, cupping her hands to her mouth.

Caduceus blushes but looks pleased all the same.

They tread water for awhile, Jester cheering Fjord on when she convinces him to do a timed lap the length of the pool, Caleb watching the clock as Caduceus counts him down. They’ve been swimming for an hour or so when they start to tire and Fjord insists they leave before they get caught, the three of them averting their eyes as Jester gets out despite her insistence that she doesn’t care.

“Go ahead,” Caleb says when Fjord climbs out of the pool after waiting a few minutes to give Jester a chance to get dressed. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

Caduceus gives him a questioning look and Caleb shrugs as he swims towards him.

“Just wanted a minute alone with you,” he explains, crowding into Caduceus’ space where he’s standing leaning against the wall of the pool.

He slips his arms around Caduceus’ waist underwater and presses against him, his bare skin cooled by the water. He rests his head on his chest, closing his eyes and enjoying the sound of his heartbeat alongside the gentle lap of water around him. Caduceus kisses the top of his head and rests his arms around Caleb’s shoulders. Despite the fact that he can feel Caduceus soft against stomach, he feels no urge or need for more than the casual closeness of skin to skin contact, savoring how natural the alignment of their bodies feels.

“I love you,” Caduceus murmurs into his hair.

Caleb smiles and tightens his arms around him as he echoes the words back to him. He presses a kiss to Caduceus’ sternum before pulling away and floating back towards where his towel is sitting on the edge of the pool.

“Be there in a second,” Caduceus says as Caleb climbs out of the pool and tucks his towel around his middle. “Let me just get my towel.”

Caleb makes his way back towards the locker room, shivering at the cool air on his wet skin.

“—makes me uncomfortable, Jester,” Fjord is saying quietly as Caleb approaches. “Molly is my friend and he really likes Caleb.”

Caleb stops short, something cold and anxious clenching in his chest at Fjord’s words.

“Well, Caduceus is _my_ friend,” Jester replies, the pout clear in her voice. “And he really likes Caleb, too. He loves him, Fjord!”

“So?” Fjord replies, “Molly loves him, too. Why are you blaming Molly for this? You know he’s a good guy, Jester.”

“I just think Caleb is better off with Caduceus, is all,” Jester says haughtily.

“I just want him to stop yanking them both around like this,” Fjord grumbles darkly. “It’s not right.”

Jester sighs. “Yeah,” she says sadly.

“What’s up?”

Caleb jumps at the sound of Caduceus’ voice directly behind him, hearing Fjord and Jester fall silent where they’re standing just down the hall inside the locker room.

“Nothing,” Caleb mutters, heading into the locker room, head bowed. He doesn’t look at Fjord and Jester as he gets dressed, though he sees them exchange significant looks in his peripheral when he’s in the process of pulling on his shoes. He’s not sure if he should be annoyed or angry at what he overheard but all he feels is sick to his stomach.

“Still want to come back to my dorm?” Caduceus says when they’re all fully dressed again, toweling at his wet hair and ears and giving Caleb a questioning look.

“Mm, sure,” Caleb replies distantly.

They toss their towels into the laundry bin in the corner before slipping back outside, Fjord locking the door behind them.

“I’ve got an essay to finish so I’m gonna head back,” Fjord says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the library on the other side of campus. “And Beau wants to workout later.”

Jester kisses him on the cheek with a cheerful, “Okay, see you later, Fjord!” and Caleb sees Fjord look somewhere between pleased and conflicted before he raises a hand in farewell and heads in the opposite direction.

“We’re actually going to head back to my dorm, Jester,” Caduceus says.

“I need to talk to Jester for a moment,” Caleb says, fixing her with a pointed look. “Alone.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Caduceus says, looking faintly confused but taking a few steps back. “I’ll just wait here.”

“What is it, Caleb?” Jester says curiously as Caleb leads her a few more feet away down the sidewalk.

Caleb stops and turns to her, jaw set resolutely.

“Stop it,” he says stiffly.

Jester blinks. “Stop what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Caleb replies. “I heard what you and Fjord said and I am—” he exhales sharply, “—I am so sick of people trying to decide what I want for me. And the way you act like Molly is interfering in my relationship with Caduceus. You and Beau and—” he stops, shaking his head and taking another deep breath. He’s starting to feel his hands shake with nerves and shoves then hard into his pockets.

“Caleb,” Jester begins carefully, “the reason we care is because Caduceus and Molly are our friends. And it’s not very fair what you’re doing to them.”

“You are not privy to every conversation I have with them,” Caleb snaps. “You think I have not discussed this with both of them? You think I have not checked in to make sure they are okay with it?”

Jester smiles a little sadly. “Caleb, do you really think they would say they’re not okay with it if they think it would mean you leaving them?” She pats him on the arm, squeezing his elbow briefly before striding off down the street in the direction of her house, leaving Caleb to stare after her, feeling stunned and shamefaced as her words sink into his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're so close to the end! Thank you all for your comments and have a lovely week!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> playlists updated :)

"Caleb?"

Caleb starts when Caduceus' hand lands gently on his shoulder.

"Everything okay?" Caduceus says, concern clear in his voice.

" _Ja_ ," Caleb says vaguely. "Yeah... fine. Let's go."

He takes Caduceus' hand in his own, needs to touch him, have his presence grounding him as he mulls over Jester's words in his head as they walk silently back to Caduceus' dorm. He knows he's being selfish, _knows_ he's taking so much more than he deserves from both of them, but he's being trying to keep them both on an even keel, gauge their feelings to ensure they're still happy. But he also knows he's not exactly an expert in these things, has never been good with these heavy emotions and so quickly tends to close himself off when things get complicated.

He remembers the pained look on Molly's face when he'd seen Caduceus' message and that familiar hot twist of guilt and self-loathing that makes his throat feel painfully tight seizes in his blood.

_You did this. You did this to him, to both of them, you're the only one to blame._

_Stop pretending you deserve them, you know you don't._

_Worthless. Worthless. Worth—_

His feet automatically carry him back to Caduceus' dorm and he follows him inside, his hand still twined numbly with Caduceus'. He sits down on the edge of the bed as he releases Caduceus' hand, staring blankly down at his feet, not really seeing them as his brain goes distant and fuzzy.

"Caleb?" Caduceus says quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Are you happy?" Caleb says, looking up at him. "With me?"

Caduceus frowns, looking bewildered at the question.

"Of course I am," he says, nodding. "What's wrong?"

Caleb swallows around the hard lump in his throat, wetting his lips anxiously.

"Are you still okay with... this arrangement?" he says, terrified of his answer but desperately needing to know, needing some reassurance that he's not as despicable a person as that voice worming its way into his head is telling him.

"You mean with you... being with Molly?" Caduceus says cautiously.

"Yes.”

Caduceus doesn't answer him immediately, chewing at the inside of his cheek and looking down at his hands with a considering look, and Caleb thinks his hesitance is all the answer he needs to know what he's thinking.

"I won't lie," Caduceus says at last, eyes still fixed on his hands. "It is... hard sometimes. Knowing that you're with him. But I know you love me."

"I do," Caleb says insistently, taking his hand to grip in both of his own. "So much."

Caduceus smiles but it's not as warm as it usually is and Caleb feels all the more terrified for it, his heart thumping anxiously in his throat.

“What do you want from this, Caleb?” Caduceus says, fixing him with an impassive look.

“From… what?”

“From this relationship,” Caduceus says, voice still calm and measured. “Do you want to go to my sister’s wedding? And meet my family and still see each other after I graduate?”

“I— _yes_ ,” Caleb says, nodding emphatically. “I want—I would like to do all of those things.”

“Okay,” Caduceus says with a slow nod. “What about Molly? Do you want things like that with him, too?”

Caleb opens his mouth mutely. He _does_. But it feels so incredibly cruel to admit that to Caduceus.

“I know you do,” Caduceus says for him with that same forlorn smile. “And that’s okay, Caleb, I can’t fault you for how you feel. But I’m not sure that it’s… sustainable.”

Panic rises so rapidly in his chest he can’t catch his breath for a moment.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he chokes, tears burning in his eyes and throat aching with how tight it is.

“ _No_ , Caleb, I—” he sighs and rests his free hand on top of Caleb’s where they’re still wrapped around his own. “I will take whatever you want to give me, Caleb. But I don’t think it’s sustainable for _you_. I _know_ , I see it in your eyes, I see it _now_ , how upset you are. I don’t want you to tear yourself up over this but something tells me no matter what I say you’re going to. And I can’t speak for what Molly wants. But maybe that’s a conversation you need to have with him.”

“I know,” Caleb says, already dreading the prospect. He’s tried to have this conversation with Molly, gets shut out each time and is too afraid to push the subject for fear of losing Molly entirely.

“I love you, Caleb. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. But I’ll admit I’m selfish, too. I don’t want to lose you.” He says it all with that same unerring placidity that Caleb had once, months ago, found almost unnerving but that even now calms his anxiety.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he replies.

 _But you might have to_ , that voice says, rising unbidden into the back of his brain. He tries to ignore it. It doesn’t work. And even after they sit there talking for another hour, the conversation changing gradually to more inane things, followed by an hour of lazily kissing on Caduceus’ bed before he finally heads home, the thought has wheedled its way so deep into his brain he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to dig it back out.

* * *

“Darling, could you pass me that can of blue paint? Darling? Caleb?”

Caleb snaps his head up, blinking back at Molly’s curious, faltering smile, his hand outstretched expectantly towards him.

“Oh, _ja_ , sorry,” Caleb mumbles, reaching behind him to pass the tin of blue paint to Molly before returning to his own methodical swiping of a paintbrush over the plywood he’s already thoroughly coated with gray paint.

“Everything okay?” Molly says gently, quiet enough that Yasha and Beau won’t hear them where they’re painting another set piece a few feet away.

“Mm, yeah, I’m okay,” Caleb lies, forcing a small smile, which Molly returns hesitantly.

Caleb has been stuck on his conversation with Caduceus since it happened two days ago, so preoccupied with it he’s found it impossible to focus on anything else. It’s been eating away at him from the inside, keeping him up at night to the point that he’s sure his face is pallid with exhaustion. He feels sick every time he considers what Caduceus had said, about this not being sustainable for him. He knows what he’s implying, that Caleb has to make up his mind and stop forcing them both to trail along after him where he’s sitting at the edge of a cliff, dangerously close to tipping over the side.

_He’s right, you know._

Caleb shakes his head and frowns down at the strip of paint he’s accidentally painted across the back of his own hand. Molly clicks his tongue, laughing quietly as he takes hold of Caleb’s hand and wipes it clean with a scrap of paint-stained fabric.

“You’re very distracted today,” he says, his voice light though Caleb can hear the question behind it.

“Sorry,” Caleb mutters, guilt tearing at his stomach so strongly he thinks it might burst out of him, a fully formed organism that will eat him alive. “Just… long day.”

“Oh?” Molly says, expression concerned. “What happened, darling? Do you need to go? I can take you home, we don’t have to do this.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Caleb says, shaking his head. He’s been glad for the distraction—even if it’s not working very well—anything is better than sitting at home stewing in his own thoughts for another second.

Molly smiles at him, small and anxious, and Caleb hates himself, hates knowing he’s the one to put the crease in his brow, the faint downturn in his lips that are so often pulled up in a bright smile. He wants to put that smile back on him again, hear his laugh and kiss the worry from his face.

They’ve barely spoken since Molly left his apartment on Saturday and Caleb feels like he’s desperately trying to catch hold of something that’s slipping through his fingers. His stomach churns and he leans forward to kiss him, needs to center himself before his breath starts to quicken and catch with panic like he knows it’s threatening to do.

Molly makes a surprised noise but quickly kisses him back, smiling and relaxing slightly into the touch, Caleb’s head spinning with relief at feeling the tension ease out of him.

“Mm, love you, darling,” Molly murmurs when he pulls away, one arm looping around Caleb’s shoulders to keep him close. His fingers brush along the nape of Caleb’s neck and he tilts his head back into the touch.

“We’re in public,” Beau calls back to them, snorting when Molly flicks her off, though he’s grinning and Caleb’s stomach swoops happily at the sight of his smile.

“I love you, too,” Caleb says, praying Molly knows how sincere he is when he says it.

Molly’s smile widens and Caleb can’t resist kissing him again, quick and chaste, before returning to painting, careful to keep the paint on the props rather than himself.

“Anyway, she said the essay is fifteen percent of the grade, so if we can work on that Wednesday, I started an outline but I could use your help.” He’s picked up on the thread of conversation from before they’d stopped and Caleb is ashamed to admit he’s not entirely sure what he’s referring to, so distracted in his own thoughts he’d barely heard what Molly had been saying.

“Sure, I will look it over,” he says, praying it’s a sufficient enough answer. “Your last two essays were wonderful, I know you will do fine.”

“Only because of your amazing tutoring, darling,” Molly says, though he looks pleased at Caleb’s praise. “I might have to take a history class next year, too, just to have an excuse to spend time with you.”

“You do not need to come up with an excuse,” Caleb says, chuckling. “I will always spend time with you.”

“Yeah?” Molly says. His tone is hopeful, almost shy, and Caleb gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I wanted to ask. Maybe we can do some stuff this summer? I know you’ll probably be visiting your parents for awhile but…” He trails off, shrugging.

“No, I’d love that,” Caleb says, nodding. “And perhaps you could come visit my home?”

Molly’s eyebrows raise in disbelief. “You… you want me to meet your parents?” His voice is soft, touched.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Caleb replies, chuckling.

“I’m not exactly parent meeting material,” Molly says, gesturing to his tattoos and bejeweled horns.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Caleb says reassuringly. “They will love you, I’m sure. You and Caduceus.” It slips out automatically and Caleb immediately regrets it, sees something dim and stiffen behind Molly’s smile. Caleb’s stomach sinks rapidly.

“Great,” Molly says, smiling though his tone is clipped. He dips his brush into the paint and swipes it across the plywood. “I can’t wait.”

Caleb reaches out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. Molly stills and looks up at him, the hard lines of his face softening.

“Molly, you know I—“

“Are you two almost done, or what?”

Beau plops down beside Molly, eyes flicking to their linked hands before Molly pulls his back, clearing his throat. Beau frowns faintly, glancing between the two of them and seemingly picking up on the tension.

“So,” she begins, dragging out the ‘o’, “Yasha and I are gonna go get food after, you guys wanna come?”

“We can’t,” Molly says before Caleb has a chance to answer. Caleb gives him a questioning look and Molly’s eyes dart nervously in his direction. “I, um, I have something for Caleb.”

“Gross,” Beau says, pulling a face.

“Shut up,” Molly snaps, none of the usually playful tone to his voice that he tends to have when he and Beau are exchanging barbs. “It’s not that, Beau.”

“Alright, yeesh,” she mutters, holding up her hands defensively, “suit yourselves.”

She throws Caleb a look that’s almost accusatory before pushing herself to her feet and striding back over to Yasha, who smiles faintly as she approaches. Caleb frowns but turns to Molly rather than trying to interpret her expression.

“You have something for me?” he says curiously.

“Sort of,” Molly replies, cheeks coloring. “It’s silly, don’t get your hopes up for anything big, okay?”

“I’m sure I will love whatever it is. You are good at giving gifts.” He pulls his keys from his pocket to show Molly the keychain he’d given him, smiling. He’s taken to turning it absently in his fingers when he’s beginning to feel anxious, using it to center himself when his hands twitch with the need to fidget.

Molly brightens when he sees the keychain, looking pleased.

“You kept it,” he says, sounding surprised.

“Of course I kept it,” Caleb says as he pockets his keys again. “You gave it to me.”

Molly’s face splits into a wide smile that makes Caleb’s heart soar. He leans across the sheet of plywood to kiss him, not caring that his hand ends up covered in paint when he lays it on the spot Molly just painted to steady himself.

“You’re getting more paint on you than the set,” Molly says with a laugh when Caleb pulls back, grimacing down at his freshly blue hand.

Caleb scowls, reaching out to drag his index finger down Molly’s nose, smearing paint over it. Molly’s mouth drops open in disbelief before he bursts out in a bright laugh.

“Asshole,” he says, grinning as he wipes his nose clean. He takes Caleb’s hand in his own and cleans it with the same towel, smiling fondly as he does. He kisses Caleb’s palm when he’s finished, smiling as he turns back to painting again and looking more relaxed than before.

When the rest of the students begin to clear out half an hour later, Beau and Yasha two of the last to leave and bidding them farewell as Molly finishes clearing a few of the drying set pieces to the back of the stage. There’s paint smeared on his hands and forearms where he’s rolled up his sleeves, smudges across the borrowed smock he’s wearing over his clothes.

“Ugh, that is always killer on my back,” he says as he straightens, wincing and rolling his shoulders as he rubs at his lower back. He fumbles with the tie on the smock around his waist, clicking his tongue in frustration when he can’t get the knot undone.

“Here, let me,” Caleb says, stepping forward to help him. He unties the knots at the base of his spine and nape of his neck, pressing his thumbs into Molly’s back in soothing circles when he’s finished.

“Mm, better,” Molly mumbles gratefully. He smiles when Caleb kisses his ear and slides his arms around his middle, squeezing him gently. Caleb hears the doors to the theater shut as the last remaining students clear out, leaving them alone on the stage. He rests his head on Molly’s shoulder with a content sigh, thinking he could simply stand here with him in the silence for hours.

But then Molly turns in his arms to face him with a shy sort of smile, hands resting on Caleb’s chest. He tugs Caleb’s hand, pulling him towards the center of the stage, glancing behind him and squinting like he’s trying to exact his position.

“Wait here for a minute, yeah?” he says softly when he seems pleased with where he’s placed Caleb, turning him around so he’s looking out across the sea of upholstered seats. “Don’t move.”

Caleb hums in agreement, accepting the kiss Molly presses to the corner of his mouth before letting his arms fall to his sides as Molly steps back away from him with that same bashful expression.

“Right back,” Molly says, nodding as he turns and strides off into the darkened wing beside the stage, disappearing around the corner. Caleb shifts absently on the spot, glancing over his shoulder in confusion when the lights shining hot on the stage go dark with a loud _clunk_. He squints when a single, pale blue spotlight flips on, shining directly on him and bathing the center of the stage in cool light.

There’s a quiet _clack_ of footsteps and he turns to see Molly walking back onto the stage towards him, a small, black remote held in one hand. He’s smirking faintly, though Caleb can see the shade of nervous energy in the way his fingers twitch and rub together at his side. He holds up the remote when he’s a few steps from Caleb and presses a button, looking relieved when the speakers crackle to life and soft piano music fills and echoes around the chamber.

“Would you care to dance, Mister Widogast?” he says, slipping the remote into his pocket and holding his hand out to Caleb with a small bow and a flourish.

Caleb laughs quietly but accepts his hand, smiling as he allows Molly to slip his arm around his waist and tug him close, lifting their joined hands as Caleb rests his other on Molly’s shoulder.

“Does this mean you are leading?” Caleb says as Molly begins to rotate them slowly on the spot under the wash of blue light, looking pleased with himself.

“Mm, I guess it does,” Molly replies, using his hand on the small of Caleb’s back to press him closer. “Only if you’re willing to follow me, though.”

“Wherever you will take me,” Caleb quips, grinning. He glances up at the spotlight. “You planned this?”

“I can be romantic when I want to be,” Molly says with a shrug.

“You are better at it than you think,” Caleb replies honestly.

Molly chuckles and his smile softens fondly, eyes sliding shut as he tilts his forehead against Caleb’s, humming absently along with the song. His breath fans across Caleb’s lips and he can’t stop himself from tilting his head to the side and kissing him, sighing happily when Molly returns the kiss, brief and chaste but so full of adoration it makes his heart skip.

Molly tucks his head into the crook of Caleb’s shoulder, nose brushing against his neck and breath warm across his skin as he exhales. Caleb smiles and tilts his head against Molly’s, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of his hand on his back, the way Molly has laced their hands together as they sway on the spot, the quiet echo of the music reverberating around the empty room. It’s peaceful, calming in a way that eases the jitter of nerves he’s been feeling the passed few days.

“I love you,” he murmurs, heart so full of it he thinks it might burst if he doesn’t say it.

Molly lifts his head from Caleb’s shoulder to look at him and Caleb is startled to see tears in his eyes, bright and gleaming in the blue glow of the lights. Caleb stills his feet and lifts his hand from Molly’s shoulder to cup his cheek, frowning in confusion and concern.

“What’s wrong?” he says softly, “Molly?”

Molly smiles, small and sad and unfamiliar, and shakes his head, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes. He closes his eyes and leans into Caleb’s hand, lips pressed together and brow furrowed faintly.

“You said I’m yours, right?” he whispers, voice wavering. He opens his eyes to flit them over Caleb’s face. When Caleb nods, he continues, “Are you mine?”

“Yes,” Caleb breathes fervently, without hesitation, something anxious and unpleasant rising up his throat. “ _Yes_ , Molly, of course I am. Look at me,” he says, lightly taking Molly’s chin in his hand when he lowers his gaze, looking so unnaturally sorrowful Caleb feels sick, his heart beating a nervous tattoo in his chest.

Molly lifts his eyes to him again, tears sparkling in his eyelashes.

“ _I love you_ ,” Caleb says firmly. “I will say it however many times you need me to say it for you to believe it, Molly.”

Molly smiles, not quite as despondent but still with that hint of sadness that makes Caleb’s chest ache.

“I know you do,” he says quietly. “But I know I’m not the only one. And I don’t know if I can do it anymore.”

Caleb’s stomach drops, his breath seizing in his lungs.

“ _Molly_ —”

“I’m sorry,” Molly says, voice cracking. He slips his hand out of Caleb’s and wipes away the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Molly, I—” Caleb tries to pull him close again but Molly shrugs out of his hands, shaking his head and not meeting his eye.

“I’m sorry, I just—I’m fine, I’m being stupid,” he croaks even as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I need to—I have homework. Please, don't...” he trails off, shaking his head again.

Caleb’s hands fall limply back at his side as Molly turns and walks quickly back across the stage, the click of his boots loud in the empty theater. He wraps his arms around himself and Caleb sees his shoulders shake as he pushes through the curtains.

He’s willing his feet to move, to follow him, but his muscles refuse to obey him, his blood like ice in his veins and dread clawing up his throat as panic digs into his brain. He stares at the spot where Molly disappeared, the final, soft notes of the song still playing across the speakers until it ends and silence falls. There’s a loud click as the spotlight shuts off overhead, casting him in darkness as his own vision blurs and his breath rushes shakily through his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter before the endings!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Molly is drunk.

Or well on his way to it, at least. He has been since he woke up at seven o’clock, eyes puffy and sore, and decided there was no way he was going to class today. He’d waited until Fjord had left before fishing out the bottle of tequila he’d pilfered from Beau’s apartment at the Valentine’s Day party, twisting the cap off and taking a long, burning gulp before flopping back on his bed miserably.

He tries not to think about the party, about how much his life, how much _he_ has changed since then. His mind wanders to Caleb and his eyes burn with fresh tears. He glances at his phone, staring at the unopened messages Caleb had sent him that he’s too afraid to respond to for fear of what Caleb might say back to him.

**_darling <3_** _: where are you? Molly, please come back, can we please talk about this?_

**_darling <3_** _:_ _Schatz, please, we need to talk, are you in your room?_

**_darling <3_** _: if you do not want to talk to me right now, I will respect that, but this is killing me_

**_darling <3_** _: I love you, please believe me_

Molly does. He _knows_ that Caleb loves him, but he also knows—is fairly sure at least—that he also loves Caduceus. And he’s still not sure how he feels about that. He’d agreed to the idea of Caleb dating both of them out of sheer fear of losing Caleb if he disagreed, but he still feels a miserable ache in his chest when he imagines Caleb with him, being held and kissed and god knows what else by him. Isn’t he enough for Caleb? What is he missing that Caduceus has? Deep down he thinks a part of him knows it’s not a matter as simple as that but how is he not supposed to compare himself to someone like Caduceus?

He turns his phone over in his hand, contemplating for the umpteenth time sending a message to him. He’s had his number saved in his phone since they were both included on Jester’s group conversation a few weeks before and he’s been itching to say something to him ever since. The problem is he doesn’t even know _what_ he would say to him. He supposes he wants to know what Caleb means to him, what he means to Caleb, what he wants from their relationship, try and get a feel for whether or not he should just give up hope that Caleb will ever pick him over someone like Caduceus, who’s older, taller, _nicer,_ surely without the scarred past Molly carries with him. Or maybe he just wants to tell him off again to try and get some of the venom out of his system.

He’s not _ashamed_ of himself, far from it, has always had that swagger of confidence around him ever since he’d pieced himself back together. But he’s still so new to this, to the swarm of emotions Caleb makes him feel, he’s positive he’s going to do—or has already done—something to screw it up, to lose Caleb, make him realize that he’s not made for this no matter how hard he tries to be.

He’s been lying in bed moping for an hour or two, taking mouthfuls of tequila every now and then as he slowly works his way past tipsy to full intoxication, clutching the cheap stuffed cat he’d won over spring break to his chest and staring blearily up at the silk canopy above his head when an idea strikes him. He sits up, steadying himself against the bed when his head spins, and pushes himself to his feet, stumbling a little as he stands. 

If he sees him in person, Caduceus will be forced to talk to him, to let Molly give him a piece of his mind. Plus if Molly plucks up the courage to do it, he won't be able to sit and wallow any longer, will feel like he's _doing_ something rather than waiting for something to happen like he is now. He's terrified of what Caleb is going to say to him the next time they see each other, that he's finally grown sick of him.   
  
He shoves his phone into his back pocket and shrugs on his coat so he can tuck the bottle of tequila behind the folds of fabric, deliberating each step carefully as he strides out into the hall, back ramrod straight as he tries not to stumble even as the world tilts and sways around him. He knows the building Caduceus is in, had seen him walking into it one evening when he happened to be passing by, but he realizes when he gets there he has no idea where his room is. He doesn’t even know if he’s there right now. But his mind is set and he’s afraid if he doesn’t try now he’ll never be able to work himself up to doing it again.   
  
"Excuse me," he calls out to a girl stepping out of the entry as he's walking up the stairs. "Do you know which room Caduceus Clay is in?"   
  
The girl's eyes sweep over his disheveled appearance, his limp hair and swollen eyes, nose wrinkling at what he's sure is the heavy smell of alcohol on his breath.   
  
"That weird guy with the plants?" she says, cocking an eyebrow when Molly nods. "Third floor, I think."   
  
"Cheers," Molly mutters, tipping her the bottle of tequila before taking a large swig, ignoring her wide-eyed look as he does. He heads inside and up to the third floor, heart beating anxiously in his throat.   
  
He comes to a halt at a door halfway down the hall that's littered with sticky notes along the frame, squinting at them and scowling when he realizes they're covered in tiny drawings of Caduceus and, to his annoyance, Caleb. Cartoonish pictures of the two of them kissing with tiny hearts drawn around them, or holding hands surrounded by little flowers, all of them signed with a large _J_ in the corner. He huffs moodily, resisting the urge to tear them down and ball them up in his pocket to discard later.

He takes another hefty swig from the bottle before rapping his knuckles firmly on the door, squaring his shoulders when he hears movement on the other side. The door swings inward and Caduceus’ eyebrows raise at the sight of him.

“Mollymauk,” he says, tone curious and apprehensive. His eyes flick down to the bottle in Molly’s hand. “Why—can I help you with something?”

Molly scowls a little at how unnervingly nice he still is.

“Can I come in?” Molly says, not waiting for a response before ducking under his arm into the room, stopping just inside the door and blinking against the bright lights in the corner situated over a dozen or so potted plants.

“Sure,” Caduceus mumbles, shutting the door and turning to Molly with a politely befuddled look. “So, uh, what can I do for you?”

Molly laughs, shaking his head as he plops down on the edge of Caduceus’ bed, the tequila sloshing around dangerously in the bottle as he does.

“We need to talk about Caleb,” he says, hearing his words slur slightly as he says them. He fixes Caduceus with a look he hopes is steady even as he sways a little on the spot.

“Do we?” Caduceus says, voice still that same unchanging calm. 

“Yeah, we do,” Molly replies. He takes a deep, bracing breath before finally asking the question he’d come here to get an answer for, though he’s fairly sure he knows what Caduceus is going to say. “Are you in love with Caleb?”

Caduceus blinks, giving him a long, appraising look before chuckling softly to himself and combing his fingers through his hair.

“I think I’m too sober for this conversation,” he mutters, turning towards the desk situated under the window.

Molly holds the bottle out towards him but he shakes his head, waving him off with a grimace and digging through the desk drawer to pull out a lighter and a neatly rolled joint. Molly stares in disbelief as he holds it to his lips, lighting it and taking a heavy hit, holding it in his lungs for a few long seconds before exhaling a cloud of pale grey smoke.

“Alright,” he sighs, moving to sit next to Molly on the bed. He rests his elbows on his knees, still having to look down at Molly even from his slouched position. Molly thinks if he wasn’t sober he would still flinch under that keen gaze, but he feels brash and decisive, needs to have this conversation before he loses his nerve.

“Yeah,” says at last. “I am. In love with Caleb. I take it you are, too?”

Molly nods once, sharply, and Caduceus breathes out a perfunctory laugh before taking another hit. He pauses before holding the joint out to Molly with a questioning look, lips still pressed together tightly as he holds his breath.

“Why not?” Molly mumbles, setting the bottle on the ground and accepting the joint. He clamps it between his lips and draws in a lungful of smoke, it’s smooth and sweet, curling down into his chest and he hums in approval as he passes the joint back to Caduceus.

“Shit,” he says, coughing a little on the exhale. “That’s good. Where’d you get it?”

Caduceus looks across the room to his plants, gesturing with an absent wave of his hand.

“No shit,” Molly mutters. He laughs quietly, shaking his head and raking his hand through his hair. “What the fuck am I doing?” It’s more to himself than Caduceus, but Caduceus still hums quietly as he says it.

“I think you’re trying to hold onto what you care about,” he says. He looks down at Molly, an almost mournful air to his expression. “I am too.”

“What am I supposed to do if I can’t?” Molly says, so quietly he’s not sure if Caduceus can even hear him. He doesn’t know why he’s here anymore, why he’s saying these things to Caduceus of all people.  

“Well,” Caduceus begins slowly, “I think we both know that Caleb is going to figure out what he wants eventually. Or… who he wants, I guess.”

“Did he tell you he loved you?” Molly says nervously.

“He did,” Caduceus replies.

Molly sighs quietly. “Me too.” He feels suddenly exhausted at the combination of alcohol and drugs and emotional turmoil he’s been going through the past few days and he leans his head on Caduceus’ shoulder, mildly surprised when he doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry again, by the way,” Caduceus says. “For what I said to you before.”

Molly shrugs and says, “It’s true.”

“Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong with that,” Caduceus replies. “I knew how much more experienced you were than me and I think I was afraid he wouldn’t want me over you. You know, I never even kissed anyone before him.” He trails off and Molly glances up to see a faint blush across his cheeks.

“Really?” he says, a little baffled by the confession.

Caduceus hums, still looking bashful.

“But you’ve…” he draws out the word, raising his eyebrows significantly.

Caduceus frowns, eyes going wide as realization comes over him.

“Oh, um, yeah,” he mumbles. “Once.”

“So who topped?” Molly says, smirking when Caduceus turns scarlet. 

“O-oh, ah, well—“

“Calm down,” Molly says, rolling his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I can guess.”

Caduceus gives him a curious look but doesn’t press him further, heaving a sigh. “I’m sure you’re much better at it than I am. I don’t know anything about… that stuff.”

Molly snorts softly, shaking his head. “Why are you so fucking nice?”

Caduceus chuckles, the sound low and oddly soothing. Molly blames the drugs.

“You’re like… cotton candy turned into a person,” Molly mutters, glancing up at Caduceus’ pink hair.

Caduceus gives him a curious look at that, shaking his head as he takes another hit before handing the joint to Molly again. 

“I’m not sure if that’s intended to be a compliment or not but I’ll take it,” he says, looking amused.

Molly turns the joint in his fingers absently, watching the paper slowly curl and burn to ash as he takes another hit. He runs his fingers through his rumpled hair, rubs at his sore eyes and blinks away the sudden burn of tears. He hands the joint back to Caduceus and flops back onto the bed with a sigh.

“Any chance both of us make it out of this unscathed?” he says, staring up at the ceiling, arms stretched out across the bed to his sides. The room spins slowly around him.

Caduceus makes a quiet, thoughtful sound and lays next to him, trapping Molly’s arm under him. He blows a slow stream of smoke out and they both watch the little cloud dissipate into nothing.

“I think there is a way,” Caduceus says at last, frowning faintly. “But I think we have to let Caleb come to the conclusion himself. I don’t want to force his hand. And I don’t even know if that’s what he wants. Maybe I’m afraid to ask.”

Molly hums in agreement. As much as he hates admitting it, he’s right. He can’t make Caleb’s mind up for him. He gives Caduceus a sidelong glance, wondering if, in other circumstances, they might be friends. He seems easygoing and almost _too_ nice if their current conversation is any indication, maybe a little flaky, but he can see the appeal in his laid back demeanor, especially for someone as tightly wound as Caleb. It doesn’t help his nerves at all seeing him in this new light.

“Love fucking sucks,” he mutters, draping his arm over his eyes, his other still under Caduceus’ back. 

Caduceus chortles softly.

“Unfortunately, I think love and heartache are pretty closely intertwined with one another,” he says sagely.

Molly snorts.

“You sound like a fortune cookie,” he mumbles, lifting his arm to give him an amused look.

Caduceus smiles, releasing a breath of laughter.

“Yeah, I guess I do a little bit,” he says. “No one has ever put it quite like that before.” He passes the joint to Molly, who takes another hit almost automatically, though he felt the high settle in a few minutes ago.

“It’s really hard to hate you, you know that?” he says distantly. “Why couldn’t you be an asshole?”

“Well, I sort of was,” Caduceus says guiltily.

Molly waves him off, scoffing. “I’ve heard worse from Beau and she’s one of my best friends,” he says earnestly, passing the joint back to him and watching him take a final hit before reaching out with one long arm to snuff it out on a tiny tray on the nightstand. He turns his head to face Molly, giving him a long, contemplative look, smoke unfurling lazily from his mouth as he exhales. Molly tries not to fidget, there’s something almost unnaturally shrewd about his gaze, like he’s reaching in to probe at the folds of his brain.

He lifts his hand toward Molly and he flinches back minutely, going still when Caduceus frowns and touches the tip of his horn curiously. They're bare now, Molly not having the energy to deck them in his jewelry that morning.  
  
"These seem like they'd get in the way a lot," Caduceus says, examining the curved, ridged horn with mild interest.   
  
"Mm, sometimes," Molly says, shrugging. He grins. "They can come in handy, though."   
  
Caduceus gives him a confused look and Molly laughs, feeling loose and relaxed from the combination of alcohol and weed.   
  
"It's the tail that's the real pain," he says, curling his tail up between them. He flicks lightly at one of Caduceus' large ears with the spaded tip. "Besides, you're one to talk. I bet those things can hear across campus."   
  
Caduceus' ear twitches up and back like it’s moving instinctively and he gives Molly and almost reproving look. 

“I thought some firbolgs had tails?” Molly says quizzically.

“It’s recessive,” Caduceus says absently. “My little sister and mom have them. The rest of us don’t.”

“The rest of you?” Molly says with an alarmed laugh. “How many of you are there?”

“I’ve got two sisters and a brother,” Caduceus replies.

“Boy, your parents were busy,” Molly mutters, tucking his arm behind his head.

Caduceus laughs quietly, turning to give him another long, considering look.

“You really love him, too, huh,” it’s said matter of factly, the barest hint of sadness to his tone.

“More than anything,” Molly replies, holding his gaze steady though he wants to look away. 

“If it doesn’t work out,” Caduceus begins, “for you or for me…” He pauses, looking up at the ceiling and sighing. “I just want him to be happy. I hope I can make him happy.”

“Yeah,” Molly says, nodding and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “Me too.”

* * *

Caleb hasn't slept.

He'd spent the entire night laying awake sick with guilt and panic, checking his phone every five minutes despite the fact that it had been silent after sending his messages to Molly. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make him understand how much he loves him. Though he supposes the issue isn't that Molly doesn't believe him, it's that the idea of Caleb also loving Caduceus is hurting him. And Caleb doesn't know how he's supposed to fix it. The idea of losing either of them makes his chest ache painfully, makes panic rise up inside him so strongly he lies in bed rapidly spinning the keychain Molly had given him in his fingers to try and fight off an anxiety attack, Frumpkin curled up against his chest and purring loudly.

He can’t keep this up any longer, can’t keep pretending that what he’s doing to Molly, to Caduceus, to _himself_ is, as Caduceus put it, sustainable. He feels like he’s in a collapsing building, desperately trying to hold up the crumbling walls around him even though he knows it’s pointless.

He contemplates skipping his classes that day but knows he needs to find some sort of distraction from the constant threat of dread spilling over inside of him so he drags himself out of bed and throws on fresh clothes, too strung up to shower or try and put more effort into his appearance than brushing his teeth robotically.

_You’re worthless._

_You keep putting them through this even though you know you don’t deserve either other them._

_You’re a coward and a selfish liar._

Nott is sitting in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal when he goes to make coffee. He hears her pause, watching him as he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a sob when he realizes the can of coffee grounds is empty, just a few scattered ones at the bottom.

“I’ll pick up some more today,” Nott says as he tosses the can into the trash and slumps into the chair across from her, burying his face in his hands.

“I forgot it was empty, I meant to add it to the list,” Caleb mumbles into his palms. He drags his hands through his hair and folds his arms on the table, resting his head on them and looking vacantly over Nott’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Nott says worriedly. “Caleb, you look…”

Awful. He looks awful. He’d run a comb through his hair and splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom but he knows there are dark bags on his eyes and thick stubble on his chin, his eyes bloodshot with lack of sleep.

“I know,” he mutters. 

“What’s wrong?” Nott repeats gently, reaching out to touch his arm lightly.

“I don’t know what to do, Nott,” Caleb says hopelessly, swallowing when his throat tightens. 

“About what?” 

Caleb gives her a distressed look and understanding passes over her features.

“This is about Caduceus and Molly, isn’t it?” she says sympathetically. She sighs when Caleb nods. “Let me ask you something, Caleb. When you started relationships with both of them, were you expecting to… to pick one of them one day?”

“I don’t know,” he croaks, “I don’t want to have to. Nott, I love them. _Both_ of them. But I know this hurting them. Molly is—I’m so afraid of losing him. Or Caduceus. I don’t know what to do.” He shakes his head and buries his face in his hands.

“Caleb,” Nott says cautiously, “I know you don’t want to hear this. But if what you’re doing isn’t working, you need to fix something or make that choice. Or one of them is going to make it for you.”

Caleb nods, blinking back the sting of tears and swallowing hard.

“I know it doesn’t feel that way now,” Nott continues softly, “but I’m sure whatever happens, it will smooth over eventually. It might not feel like that at first. But… just, do what feels right to you and it’ll be okay in the end.”

Caleb heaves a heavy sigh and gives her a watery smile.

“Thank you,” he says thickly.

“You know I’m always here to talk,” she adds, patting his arm. “Whatever you need.”

“I know,” Caleb mutters, nodding. “I should get going.”

He stands and presses a kiss to the top of her head before, shouldering his bag and dragging his way to the coffee shop to try and achieve some semblance of togetherness by pumping himself full of caffeine. He buys a large black coffee and sinks into a seat in the far corner of the room, staring down into his cup and trying hard to quell his own nerves. He knows the coffee will do nothing to help but he feels nauseous with exhaustion.

He’s contemplating again going back home and skipping class again when someone seats themselves in the chair across from him. He blinks blearily at Beau as she folds her arms across her chest and stares at him, jaw set and eyes hard.

“Good morning, Beauregard,” he mumbles, taking a sip of coffee even though it nearly scalds his tongue.

“Well you look like shit,” she says, unsmiling.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, smiling wryly.

“You need to fix this,” she says sharply, no warmth in her voice.

Caleb sighs and scrubs his hand over his stubbled jaw.

“I would ask you to elaborate but I am fairly certain what you are referring to,” he says tiredly.

“Damn right you know,” she snaps. “You can’t keep doing this to him, Caleb. To either of them. Christ, you can’t keep doing it to _yourself_ , you look like hell.”

Caleb gives her a stiff, tight-lipped smile at this, too exhausted to try and argue with her.

“He’s my friend, Caleb,” she says, unfolding her arms so she can lean across the table towards him. “ _You’re_ my friend. But I can’t keep—this is _hurting_ him, Caleb.”

“I know,” Caleb says quietly. “I _know_ , Beauregard.”

“Then _fix it_ ,” Beau says harshly. “Because I can’t watch him come over and drink himself stupid again because he knows you’re with Caduceus.”

Caleb’s stomach twists sickeningly and he has to breathe deep through his nose to keep from vomiting at the idea of Molly trying to drink away the notion of him being with Caduceus. _Why_ hadn’t he told him how he felt? 

“What do you want me to do?” he says, voice cracking as he gives Beau an imploring look, begging for a solution that doesn’t end in someone’s heart getting broken. “I love him. But I love Caduceus as well.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Caleb,” Beau says, the hard lines of her face softening slightly at how miserable he’s sure he looks. “None of us can. You need to decide that for yourself. But you _need to decide_. Or it’s just gonna get worse.”

Caleb doesn’t respond. He wishes someone would simply tell him what he’s supposed to do, fix his fuck-up so he doesn’t have to try and figure out how to do it himself in a way that doesn’t leave someone heartbroken. He feels so utterly helpless, useless, wants to curl into a ball and sink into the black panic that’s threatening to overtake him. But he can’t, because this time it’s not just his own feelings on the line. He feels like he’s holding Molly’s heart in one hand and Caduceus’ in the other, teetering at the edge of a cliff knowing he’s going to have to drop one to keep his own footing. He’d almost rather just fall.

“Whatever you do,” Beau says quietly, sadly, “if you’re going to break up with him, just… do it gently. He really does love you.”

She pushes her chair back to stand after this, sparing him a final, almost sympathetic look before she scoops up her cup and leaves. Caleb stares after her, feeling tears slide hot down his cheeks but not bothering to try and stem them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending 1 goes up next Friday, 2 goes up following Monday, and 3 goes up that Wednesday.


	24. Mollymauk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE FIRST ENDING
> 
> I have seen lots of recent comments seeming unfamiliar with there being multiple endings so I want to ensure everyone is aware that this is the first of three endings. Ending 2 will be posted on Sunday or Monday. And ending 3 on Wednesday.

_*******ALTERNATE ENDING ONE******* _

He doesn’t take in any of his lectures that day, every class is a hazy blur of color and movement as he goes through his day automatically, his thoughts far from his books and lessons. All he can think about is Molly. About Caduceus. About what the hell he's supposed to do about the mess he’s gotten himself into out of his own selfishness.

He stops at the library after classes before he’s meant to tutor Caduceus—how he’s supposed to manage that now he has no idea—and holes himself up in a far corner, thinking he might try and catch a few minutes of sleep to make up for getting none the night before. But he can’t sleep, the combination of caffeine and dread forcing his eyes open as he stares at his phone. He opens up the thread of messages he has with Molly, vision blurring at the unanswered messages he’d sent Molly the night before.

His fingers hover over the keyboard but no words come to his mind. What is he supposed to say? What _can_ he say after everything he’s put Molly through? Molly who has comforted him through his worst moments and been patient to a fault with him for so long. Molly who is shameless and adoring in equal measure, makes him feel like he’s so much better than he is. Molly loves him. Molly _trusts_ him and Caleb has squandered that trust what he’s terrified is one too many times.

Molly has never been timid in showing Caleb just how much he wants him, has never hesitated to try and prove it in the little gestures and gifts he’s shown and given him. Molly knows so much of him and who he is and still somehow thinks he’s not enough for Caleb when in reality he’s so much more than what Caleb deserves.

Opening the pictures on his phone, he flicks through the ones he’d taken with Molly the week before. He bites his lip hard at the sight of Molly’s smile, so open and fucking _happy_ it hurts to see it after seeing the look of misery on his face the last time he’d seen him. The thought of losing Molly feels like carving a piece of himself out of his chest.

He sits up as it sinks into him what he needs to do, pressing his fingers to his lips and closing his eyes with a silent sob at the prospect, tears welling at the corners of his eyes and splashing down his face. He feels nauseous, has to grip his head in his hands for ten minutes to try and steady his breathing and keep from throwing up. His throat feels raw from forcing down the hard lump that keeps swelling there each time he thinks about what he’s about to do.

He doesn’t want to, would rather do _anything_ else, but Beau was right, the longer he puts this off the worse it will get, the more it will hurt everyone involved. So he finally, eventually, drags himself to his feet in a daze and makes his way across campus, dreading every step. The sky overhead is clear and blue and sunny, like it’s mocking his misery. It should be full of black, heavy clouds, cracking thunder and pouring cold rain.

When he reaches the door, Caleb's hand hovers in midair for what feels like hours before he finally forces himself to knock. He closes his eyes as he hears Caduceus shifting on the other side of the door, prying them open when the door unlocks and swings inward.

"Hey," Caduceus says, face brightening when he sees Caleb. It makes Caleb's stomach churn with guilt. "I didn't know you were coming over early. Come in."

He leans down to press a kiss to Caleb's temple and Caleb hates himself for accepting it. He's clinging desperately to these few remaining moments he has left before Caduceus looks at him with disgust instead of affection. He takes a deep, steadying breath and follows Caduceus into the room. The door shuts behind him with a cold sense of finality.

"What's up?" Caduceus says, smiling as he sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot beside him for Caleb to sit. His smile falters a little when he sees the look on Caleb's face, his red eyes and drained complexion.

“Have you been crying?”

"I need to talk to you," Caleb says. He can hear the shake in his voice, watching Caduceus' expression fall into a concerned look.

"Of course, what's wrong?" he says, voice laced with worry.

Caleb wants to tell him to stop being so damn nice to him. He doesn't deserve his compassion, that soft, perplexed look he's giving him. Not when he's here to break his heart. He forces himself to move, each step like his shoes are concrete as he walks to sit next to Caduceus on the bed, leaving a few inches between them. Caduceus lays one warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Are you okay?" he says quietly.

"No," Caleb replies honestly.

"What's wrong?" Caduceus says, starting to sound anxious. "What can I do?"

Caleb lets out a pained, shaky laugh that quickly turns into a sob. He shakes his head, burying his face in his hands.

"Caleb?" Caduceus says hesitantly, voice small, fingers tightening gently on his shoulder.

"I'm here to break up with you." He has to force the words out of his mouth. They taste cold, acidic on his tongue.

He feels Caduceus still next to him. The silence stretches out infinitely between them, so long he feels like his heart might crush itself in his chest waiting for a reaction.

"Oh," Caduceus whispers finally. His hand slides off Caleb's shoulder and he shifts away from Caleb half an inch, though it might as well be miles. Caleb feels suddenly cold, his breath like ice in his lungs.

"Is this because... are you staying with Molly?"

Caleb feels Caduceus’ eyes on him, expectant, and he nods silently. He doesn't think he can force more words out past the thick lump in his throat.

"Okay," Caduceus says simply. He sighs, a long, heavy exhale that feels like a blade in Caleb's chest.

"I'm sorry," he manages weakly.

"It's okay," Caduceus says quietly, "I understand."

"Do you?" Caleb says doubtfully, glancing up at him.

"Well… no, not really," Caduceus admits. "But it seemed like the right thing to say." He's not meeting Caleb's eyes, gaze fixed on his own fingers. His ears are drooping sadly, shoulders slumped. A cold, leaden feeling settles in Caleb's stomach.

"I'm sorry," he repeats a little helplessly. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. The heavy rush of guilt pulls at his chest. His vision blurs with sudden tears. "I am so sorry, Caduceus. I know nothing I can say is going to make this any better."

Caduceus looks up at him at last and the weight in Caleb's stomach grows. He's not crying, but Caleb almost wishes he would. Wishes he would scream and yell at him. Anything would be better than that look of deep, helpless misery. It's so out of place on Caduceus' face, usually lit up with a warm smile. He looks small, vulnerable.

Caleb wants to take it back, to tell him he was wrong and go back to letting things play out as they were. To pull him into his arms and kiss that wretched look from his face. But Beau was right. He can't keep stringing them along because he's too much of a selfish coward to stop it. His throat tightens painfully and he looks down at his own hands, no longer able to stand Caduceus looking at him that way. _Coward_.

"I'm sorry," he whispers again, tears spilling hot from his own eyes. He knows he has no right to feel upset, this is his own doing, his own indecision put that look in Caduceus' eyes and nothing else. He sniffs, exhaling shakily as he wipes his fingers hastily under his eyes.

"I know you hate me now—"

"I don't hate you," Caduceus says, tone unnaturally flat.

"You should," Caleb says harshly. He forces himself to look up at Caduceus again. "I don't deserve anything less from you than that."

Caduceus smiles then, though it's distant and empty, not reaching his eyes.

"I don't hate you, Caleb," he says. "I won't hate you. I love you."

Another fresh surge of guilt hits him. "Don't," he says, voice breaking. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth," Caduceus says, voice still blank, unchanging. "I've meant it each time I’ve said it, Caleb. I'm not trying to change your mind. Well... maybe I am. I don't know. But I need to say it. You can at least give me that."

There's no bite to his words but Caleb still feels a cold sting in his chest at them. He's right, though. He doesn't deserve any accommodation for his own feelings from him. Caduceus looks up at him and Caleb sees that familiar longing adoration behind his eyes, layered with grief. He desperately wants to return Caduceus' words. He can feel them on the tip of his tongue. But he bites them back, forces them down his throat like bile before he can say them. He's made up his mind and he has to hold himself to it.

"I'm s—"

"Please stop apologizing," Caduceus says, the faintest edge of irritation to his voice. "It's like you said, nothing you can say is going to make it better, so..." He sighs again, staring down at his hands for a long moment before speaking again. "I hope... I hope he makes you happy."

Caleb's eyes burn again and he blinks hard, swallowing around the tightness in his throat.

"Do you love him?" Caduceus says, looking up at Caleb with a sad, defeated look.

"I do," Caleb replies, nodding.

"Good," Caduceus says distantly, eyes fixing out through the open window. "That's good." He opens his mouth like he's going to speak again, closing it and sighing when he seems to decide against it.

"I want you to be happy, Caleb," he says eventually. "And if I can't do that for you and he can then... maybe this is for the best." He smiles a little sadly at Caleb's disbelieving look. "I think I'm just trying to convince myself this doesn't hurt as much as it does."

He gives Caleb a considering look before pulling him into a tight hug. Caleb returns it almost automatically, closing his eyes as he wraps his arms around Caduceus’ middle and squeezes. A fresh wave of tears hits him and he presses his face into his shoulder to muffle a pained sob.

Caduceus is warm and soft against him, smelling of earth and sandalwood and achingly familiar, and part of Caleb never wants to let go of him. He has to, though, when Caduceus pulls away, leaving Caleb feeling cold again. It feels so final, so much like goodbye, that his eyes brim with tears again.

“I guess this means you won’t be tutoring me anymore?” Caduceus says absently.

“I am going to withdraw from the program,” Caleb says. He’s not sure when the decision came to him, might have at this very moment, but it feels necessary for so many reasons. “But you can be set up with another tutor if you want one for the rest of the semester. Perhaps they will not fuck up as badly as I did.”

Caduceus smiles wryly. “Maybe,” he says. “But they won’t be you.”

Caleb squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose as another wave of tears hits him. He wipes his fingers under his eyes. They’re starting to burn.

“I’m sorry I took so many firsts from you,” he says quietly. He exhales a shuddering breath and forces himself to look at Caduceus, who’s smiling sadly.

“I’m not,” Caduceus says, absently thumbing away a tear sliding down Caleb’s cheek. It takes everything for Caleb not to lean into his touch. “I’m glad it was with you.”

“You are so much better than me,” Caleb says. “You _deserve_ so much better than me.” He sniffs and wets his lips, tasting the salt on them from his own tears. He looks down at his lap, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” Caduceus says quietly. “When you said you loved me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Caleb says, “Yes, of course I meant it. Caduceus, I _do_ love you but… but like you said it’s not… sustainable what I’m doing to the two of you.”

Caduceus sniffs quietly and Caleb looks up, another cold weight settling in his chest at the sight of tears in his eyes. He wipes them away absently but more slide down his cheeks before he can stop them. Caleb has never hated himself more.

“Um, maybe you should go,” Caduceus mumbles, turning his head to the side so Caleb can only see the corner of his face. He hears him sniff and breathe out shakily.

“Caduceus, I—“

“Please,” Caduceus says, voice small and tremulous. “I need to think.”

_Look what you did._

“Okay,” Caleb says, nodding. “Okay.”

He pushes himself to his feet, hand hovering over Caduceus’ shoulder for a few long seconds before he lets it drop to his side limply. He can see tears rolling silently down his cheek and he’s so tempted to sit back down and wrap his arms around him, kiss him and take every word of it back. He feels like he’s just cut out a chunk of his heart and left it to wither on the ground. Though he knows Caduceus must feel the same. Or worse. He doesn’t have someone else waiting for him to wipe away his tears and comfort him. He feels sick with himself.

He walks to the door, pausing to look back at Caduceus, whose face is now buried in his hands, shoulders shaking gently, ears drooping, and he tries to think of something to say that will make it better. Anything that will stop Caduceus from hurting. His mind is blank. How is he supposed to try and fix something he broke in the first place?

Instead he simply stares at him for a long moment before turning the doorknob and stepping into the hallway, shutting the door behind him and not trying to stop the tears coming hot and fast down his own face.

He’s managed to get them under control by the time he reaches Molly’s dorm, scrubbing at his sore eyes before knocking gently. For a moment he panics that he’s not there, feeling a rush of relief when he hears the creak of bedsprings followed by footsteps on the carpet before the door swings inward.

Molly looks as miserable as Caleb feels, eyes puffy and face drained of its usual vibrant color, flat and dull. He’s not wearing his jewelry on his horns and he’s dressed in a baggy t-shirt and shorts he thinks might be borrowed from Fjord’s wardrobe if the swim team emblem across the chest is any indication.

“Can I come in?” Caleb says after a few long second’s silence.

Molly shrugs and steps aside to let him through. He wraps his arms around himself as he sits down on the edge of the bed, glancing at the clock on his nightstand.

“I thought you had tutoring tonight?” he says in a small, timid voice that sends a spike of guilt through Caleb’s chest.

“I actually just came from talking to Caduceus,” Caleb says, feeling his voice crack as he says his name. He swallows.

“Oh?” Molly says warily, fear flashing across his face.

“Yes.” Caleb walks across the room to sit on the bed next to him, keeping his hands in his lap when Molly curls tighter into himself. “I told him that… that our relationship was over.” He feels Molly still next to him. “Because I want to be with you. Just you. If you will still have me.”

He waits a few seconds before looking up at Molly hopefully. His eyes are wide with disbelief, lips slightly parted. He clamps his hand over his mouth to stifle a sob that turns into a wet, choked-off laugh.

“You’re picking _me_?” he says in a cracked voice.

“Yes,” Caleb says, nodding as his eyes blur again. “Yes, I am _so sorry_ I put you through this.”

“I don’t care,” Molly says, shaking his head and laughing even as tears slip down his cheeks. “I don’t care, Caleb, _I love you._ ”

Before Caleb can echo his words, Molly has all but tackled him back onto the bed in a hard, closed-mouth kiss, gripping Caleb’s face desperately in both hands.

“I love you,” he breathes against Caleb’s lips. He tastes salty and faintly of alcohol and something else Caleb can’t place. “I love you, I love you, _fuck_ , I love you.”

He peppers Caleb’s lips and face with kisses, laughing and crying and looking like he’s not quite sure Caleb is even real, like he’s bewildered Caleb would be here at all.

“I love you, too,” Caleb says, smiling though he has to force his face to do it. He’d made this decision, knew what it would entail, but all he can think about is Caduceus alone in his room crying because of _him._  The thought makes him sick.

Molly stops kissing him, expression falling slightly.

“You’re upset, aren’t you?” he says. “About breaking up with him?”

Caleb nods. If he’s going to have this relationship with Molly, he’s going to start it on the right foot, with full honesty.

“You love him,” Molly states simply. Love. Not loved.

Caleb nods again.

“I know,” Molly says with a sigh. He pulls Caleb into a hug, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know it must hurt. I don’t know how much help I’ll be given the circumstances but I’ll do my best. I know this must have been a hard decision.”

Caleb nods into his shoulder, arms limp at his sides though he leans into Molly’s touch.

“Selfishly, I am glad that you picked me, though,” Molly continues. “I love you more than anything, Caleb. I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

“Me too,” Caleb replies, looping his arms loosely around Molly’s waist.

Molly hugs him tighter against his chest.

“You won’t regret it,” he murmurs. “I am going to be the best fucking boyfriend in the world.”

Caleb laughs weakly, closing his eyes and turning his head into Molly’s shoulder when tears spring to his eyes again. What the fuck did he just do?

“Oh!” Molly says excitedly, jumping up and moving to the desk, pulling out an envelope with Caleb’s name scrawled across it out. He passes it to Caleb and sits on the bed with him again.

“Your ticket!” he explains when Caleb opens the envelope to pull out a neatly printed ticket for the opening performance of the school musical dated almost two weeks later. “I got you a really good seat.” He grins, smile fading a little at the look on Caleb’s face.

“We can talk about it later, yeah?” he says gently, taking the envelope back from Caleb and setting it on the nightstand so he can wrap Caleb in another hug, murmuring reassurances in his ear when he lets out a broken sob into his shoulder, feeling so many conflicting emotions he’s afraid something inside him might have actually broken beyond repair.

This is what he wanted, what he decided on. He loves Molly. Molly makes him so incredibly happy it makes him feel like he could float. _He wants Molly._

So why does he still feel so miserable?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and for sticking with me for this monster! I hope you enjoy the three endings!


	25. Caduceus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick shoutout for adorable art by Lynn! https://twitter.com/zafflebird/status/1147736101177778177?s=21
> 
> Playlists updated for endings 1/2, I have been posting from my phone and totally forgot to update for ending 1 originally.

**_*****ALTERNATE ENDING TWO*****_ **

He doesn’t take in any of his lectures that day, every class is a hazy blur of color and movement as he goes through his day automatically, his thoughts far from his books and lessons. All he can think about is Caduceus. About Molly. About what the hell he's supposed to do about the mess he’s gotten himself into out of his own selfishness.

He goes to the cafeteria after classes to try and force down something after spending the day without consuming anything but coffee, leaving him feeling jittery, it combined with the sheer exhaustion and dread leaving him crawling in his own skin. He buys a sandwich but ends up simply staring at it for fifteen minutes, the idea of actually eating making him feel even more nauseous than he has the rest of the day. How is he supposed to even consider eating when he knows he's going to have to end up breaking either Molly or Caduceus' heart because he's been too selfish to think about anyone but himself?

His mind wanders to Caduceus and of how much he'd kept after him even before they were together, before they were even really friends, how much he'd cared for Caleb's well-being when Caleb couldn't even be bothered to care for himself. Caduceus with that soft, adoring smile that has left him with a stomach full of butterflies, made him ache so badly at times he could barely breathe when he'd thought Caduceus didn't reciprocate his feelings. He thinks to the first time Caduceus had kissed him and his stomach does a weak back-flip almost automatically as he remembers how careful and hesitant Caduceus had been with him, has _always_ been with him.

He has shared every one of Caduceus' firsts and he wants to share even more, wants to meet his family and explore every facet of their relationship together. Caduceus has trusted him with so much, his heart and body, has given him so much more than Caleb thinks even he knows. Even when Caleb has been undeniably selfish, he's kept them on an even keel, been open and told Caleb that, no matter what his decision, he would respect him. Caleb thinks that, for someone as inexperienced in romance as he is, he's far better at it than Caleb will ever be. Or maybe it's just his nature of being as calm and kind as he is, the perfect counter and balance to Caleb's own tightly wound personality.

Caduceus has loved him so wholly, so cautiously from the start, made him feel treasured and valued without making him feel fragile. He thinks of the plans they’ve already started to make for Caleb to meet the rest of his family and of the fact that his family already knows about Caleb. He’s already woven himself into Caduceus’ life as deeply as Caduceus has threaded his way into his. The idea of losing him makes bile rise acrid in his throat. He'd sooner cut off his own limb than cut Caduceus out of his life.

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes as he realizes what he needs to do, biting back the sour taste in his mouth as nausea washes over him at the prospect. He doesn’t want to do this. He already hates himself for doing it, sits there for ten minutes trying to quell the dread in his chest and work up the courage to push himself to his feet.

Eventually, he forces himself up, throws his untouched food in the trash, and begins to make his way across campus, barely seeing where he’s going and letting his feet carry him automatically. The sun is bright and warm against his skin, cruelly pleasant when he feels like his world is rending in two, like he’s walking himself to a gallows.

He takes a deep breath when he reaches the familiar door, hands trembling as he knocks lightly, almost hoping there’s no response so he can put this off longer. He’ll deal with the twisting knot of guilt in his stomach if it means he doesn’t have to see Molly hurting.

But Molly opens the door after a few seconds, shoulders slumped and skin drained pale, ashen, dark bags under his puffy eyes. The sight makes Caleb’s stomach churn painfully.

“Can I come in?” he says quietly.

Molly nods silently and stands back to let him in, not meeting Caleb’s eyes and wrapping his arms around himself protectively. He’s dressed in a too-large t-shirt and shorts he assumes are Fjord’s given the swim team logo across the front.

“I didn’t expect you to come over,” he says, plucking absently at a loose thread on his t-shirt.

“We need to talk, Molly,” Caleb says, wincing when his voice cracks around his name.

Molly's eyes snap up to him as he says it. His face falls and Caleb can see understanding click behind his eyes. His shoulders tense, expression almost fearful as he shakes his head.

"Molly," Caleb begins gently, hating himself.

"No," Molly says, shaking his head harder, eyes fixed desperately on Caleb's face, pleading. "No. Don't say it. _Please_. Don't say it." His lips quiver and tears well bright in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Caleb says quietly, eyes burning as he tries to blink back tears.

Molly releases a soft, aborted sob, sinking onto the bed and burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shake as he cries weakly, soft, shuddering sounds muffled in his palms. Caleb stares helplessly at him, rooted to the spot with guilt. Molly peers up at him through his fingers, face streak with tears, eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks in a quavering voice.

"No, Molly, you didn't do anything wrong." He feels utterly powerless watching Molly cry. Cry because of _him._ Because of his own fucking selfishness.

"He just did more right?" Molly asks quietly, face twisting in anguish when Caleb doesn't respond, looking silently down at his shoes rather than meet Molly's eyes. _Coward_.

Shame twists painfully in his chest when Molly sighs tremulously, releasing a low sound like a wounded animal as he begins crying in earnest, tears sliding down his face and splashing onto his legs. He grips his head in his hands, hiccuping and gulping as he chokes back sobs that wrack his whole body. They feel like knives sinking into Caleb's heart.

"Molly..." Caleb twists his hands together helplessly, taking a step towards him but stopping when Molly shrinks away from him, curling in on himself.

"I'm sorry," he says, hoping he conveys just how much he hates himself for what he's doing, how much he regrets having to say it. But he knows he doesn't deserve any solace from Molly. It's no one's fault but his own.

Molly gazes up at him. His eyes are swollen, cheeks stained with tear tracks. He pushes himself to his feet, face set with resolve, and Caleb braces himself for a slap across the face. But Molly doesn't slap him. Instead, he grips Caleb's face in both hands and kisses him hard, desperate, so much like their first kiss that Caleb almost kisses him back, almost falls back into that familiar flow. It would be so easy, so much simpler to just pretend he wasn't here to break Molly's heart, to wrap his arms around him and kiss the tearstains from his face. But he can't.

Molly breaks away when Caleb doesn't kiss him back, expression grief-stricken.

"Please don't do this," he whispers, voice breaking as tears well in his eyes again. " _Please_. I don’t care if you want to stay with him, too, Caleb, I don’t care, I—"

“But you _do._ ”

“I don’t! Please, Caleb, _please_.”

"Molly—"

" _I love you_ ," Molly says, sounding frantic now.

Caleb closes his eyes, a cold weight plunging into his chest.

"Don't say that," he murmurs, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Molly says, voice thick with tears and brimming with sudden anger. "You said you loved me _yesterday_ so why the fuck shouldn't I say it when it's true? So you don't feel _guilty_ about it?"

"No," Caleb insists fiercely, gripping Molly's arms tightly when he tries to pull away. "Because I don't deserve it from you. And I _do_ love you, I just... I can’t keep doing this to you. It’s killing you.”

Molly makes a sound halfway between a sob and a scoff.

“You show up in my life,” he says, voice small and tremulous, “and make me feel like this—“ he clutches his chest, “—then rip it away and think _you’re_ the one suffering?”

“Molly, that’s why I’m doing this,” Caleb says desperately, his own voice breaking, tears blurring his vision. “Because I don’t want to see you hurting anymore.”

“You think _this_ doesn’t fucking hurt?!” Molly shouts, wrenching himself out of Caleb’s grasp. “You get to tear my heart out and walk out of here and go off with your perfect fucking life. But I’ll still be here, Caleb, you don’t get to pretend that away.”

“I know, Molly, I—“

“You don’t, really,” Molly says quietly. He wipes his fingers under his eyes and sniffs.

“Molly,” Caleb says, taking half a step towards him. “You are incredible and resilient and I don’t deserve an ounce of sympathy from you. You’re going to find someone who deserves everything you have to give. I’m not that person.”

Molly scoffs again, shaking his head, lips curling in a humorless smile that makes Caleb's blood run cold.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess," he says coolly. He sighs and all the fight seems to leave his body, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Just... go," he mutters, shrugging Caleb off, not meeting his eyes.

"Molly," Caleb says, feeling panic start to well in his chest. "I don't want it to end like this."

"Well, you don't get to make that decision, do you?" Molly snaps, glaring back at him. He sighs again, raking his fingers through his hair. "Look, I just... I need to think, okay? Besides," his voice hardens, "you're going to see him now, aren't you?" He glances at Caleb, jaw tightening when he doesn't respond. "I don't want to keep you from your blissful happy ending." His voice is shaky and laced with disgust. Caleb feels sick at the sound.

"Molly—“

"Just go," Molly says more firmly. "Please."

Caleb swallows down the apology hanging from the tip of his tongue. The air feels cold and heavy between them. He hates it.

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. "I'll go."

Molly doesn't look at him as he turns to leave. Caleb pauses at the door to look back at him, begging for his brain to think of something, _anything_ that will soften the hard lines of Molly's expression. His mind is blank though, empty as the long silence stretching between them. He sighs and turns back to the door, twisting the handle and stepping out into the hall and letting it swing shut behind him with an unnaturally loud click.

He closes his eyes, heart wrenching in his chest when he hears a muffled, broken wail behind him. He can still taste salt on his lips.

It takes him a full minute to get his legs to move, stumbling a little as he leaves. He feels like he’s just torn something out of himself and left it there on the dirty carpet to shrivel up black and lifeless. He keeps seeing Molly’s distraught face every time he blinks, keeps hearing that disgust in his voice. Caleb knows he deserves nothing less from him, probably deserved to be hit, almost wishes Molly would have hit him. Anything would be better than knowing Caleb is walking away while Molly cries over him.

He knocks rapidly on Caduceus’ door when he reaches it, gripping his chest as panic starts to clench around his heart. What did he just _do_? What the hell is wrong with him? Why did he—

The door swings open and Caduceus lights up at the sight of him. His smile falls almost immediately as his eyes sweep over Caleb’s appearance.

“What’s wrong?” he says without preamble when he takes in Caleb’s tearstained face, eyes widening with concern.

“Can I come in?” Caleb croaks, walking past Caduceus when he nods and steps back.

Caleb paces restlessly, clawing his fingers through his hair and across his scalp and trying to calm his rapid breathing, eyes stinging and darting unseeing across the carpet.

“Caleb, what’s wrong?” Caduceus says, sounding seriously concerned now as he steps in front of Caleb and takes him carefully by the shoulders, putting a halt to his pacing.

Caleb takes a deep, shuddering breath, blinking rapidly to try and stem the steady flow of tears.

“I just broke up with Molly,” he says, barely able to get the words past his lips, another hot wave of tears running down his cheeks as he says it.

Caduceus’ eyes widen slightly, his fingers tightening where they’re still gripping Caleb’s shoulders. His gaze flicks back and forth between Caleb’s eyes, a faint nervousness coming over his features.

“Are you… are you here to break up with me, too?” he says quietly, tone somewhere between fearful and resigned.

Caleb shakes his head, hiccuping weakly and scrubbing his hand over his eyes roughly.

“No,” he murmurs, taking another calming breath. “I did it because I… I want to be with you. Just you, Caduceus.”

“...Really?” Caduceus sounds doubtful, almost confused.

Caleb nods, looking up at him, surprised to see him frowning faintly.

“Is this really what you want?” he says, gaze steady and keen.

_No._

_I want both of you._

“I had to,” Caleb says. “I want you. And I was hurting him. I couldn’t keep—” his voice breaks and he presses his lips together, shaking his head as tears run hot down his cheeks. His face feels stiff from crying, his eyes puffy and sore. He takes half a step forward and Caduceus moves closer to meet him, catching him against his chest and wrapping his arms around him when he buries his face in his chest and cries. Caduceus strokes his fingers slowly through his hair, rubbing his other hand up and down his back.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs. “It’ll be okay, Caleb.”

“I love you,” Caleb chokes, voice muffled in Caduceus’ shirt. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Caduceus replies softly, voice warm and soothing. “I know you do, Caleb. And I know you love him. I don’t expect you to be over him right away.”

Caleb lets out a shaky breath and slips his arms around Caduceus’ waist, hugging him tightly and pressing his ear against his chest, calming at the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“Whatever you need from me,” Caduceus says, “Whatever you need, I’m right here, Caleb.”

Caleb clings tighter to him when another wave of nausea sweeps through him as he remembers Molly. He realizes with a sickening jolt it’s not just Molly he’s losing, that he’s probably losing Beau, is definitely losing his blossoming friendships with Fjord and Yasha, losing his connection to the community he’s just dipping his toes into with Molly’s encouragement. He’s so sick with himself he has to bite his tongue to will away the urge to vomit.

“I know this is probably a really bad time to bring this up,” Caduceus begins tentatively, looking down when Caleb tilts his head back to meet his gaze. “But Clara just confirmed about five minutes ago that you’re on the guest list. She moved some people around so you can sit next to me. If you still want to go, that is,” he adds a little nervously.

Caleb forces a watery smile and nods.

“I do,” he says, watching relief come across Caduceus face. He presses his cheek to Caduceus’ chest again, feeling him sigh contentedly into his hair.

“I love you,” Caduceus murmurs.

“I love you, too,” Caleb replies.

He means it. More than anything. That is what he picked him. He loves Caduceus. _He wants Caduceus._

So why does he still feel so miserable?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to the end ;w;


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> playlists are completed :)

Caleb gives up trying to focus on class halfway through the day, deciding to go home and try and collect his own thoughts and figure out what the hell he's supposed to do with them. He feels lost, wishing for some sort of guidance to tell him where he’s supposed to go from here. All he can think about is the fact that he’s going to have to hurt Molly or Caduceus and, regardless of who that is, is going to end up hurt himself. Because he doesn’t want to lose _either_ of them. The very thought makes his stomach churn horribly, makes his eyes burn and his chest ache like he’s considering ripping out half his own heart to try and save the other.

He’s halfway back to his apartment when his phone rings and he nearly drops it in trying to frantically answer it, feeling a sinking disappointment followed rapidly by a surge of guilt when he sees it’s his mother calling rather than Molly.

“ _Hallo,_ Mama,” he says, trying to inject cheerfulness into his voice and wincing at how false it sounds.

“Good afternoon, _Liebling_ ,” his mother replies brightly. “I did not know if you would be busy still.”

“Mm, _ja,_  I am on my way home from class,” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. “Everything okay?”

“Can I not call my own son without an ulterior motive?” she says, laughing. The sound is bright and pleasant and calms him immeasurably. “You have not been calling much and you did not come home for break, we miss you.”

“Sorry, Mama,” he says as another rush of guilt churns his stomach. “I have been busy.”

“No, I understand, _Liebling_ ,” his mother says kindly. “How have you been? Besides busy. Classes going well?”

“Mm,” he replies, nodding. He hesitates, chewing at the inside of his cheek, before continuing, “I met someone, Mama.” He's not sure why he’s telling her now of all times. Maybe feels guilty for the lack of contact and keeping it from her for so long.

“Oh?” she says excitedly. “Boy? Girl? What are they like?”

“A boy,” Caleb says, nervously clearing his throat. “Ah, two boys actually.”

“Oh?” she says, sounding faintly confused. “Hold on, dear.” Caleb hears a rustle as she holds the phone away from her mouth and calls in a muted voice, “Leo! Leofric! Caleb is on the phone.”

Caleb hears a voice in the background on the other end of the phone, deep and muffled, his mother responding with something he can’t make out.

“Caleb?”

“ _Hallo,_ Papa.”

“How is school going? You are coming home at the end of the semester still? Your mother and I missed you at spring break,” his father says in rapid German.

“I will be home,” Caleb replies, words a little clunky on his tongue from lack of use. “I promise. I may bring someone to visit if that is okay?”

“Does Nott want to come stay?”

“Ah, no, someone else, maybe,” Caleb mutters. “I will let Mama know for sure.”

His father grunts in agreement and he hears his mother say something in the background.

“I’ll give you back to your mother,” he says, the smile clear in his voice. “Love you, son, have a good day.”

“Love you, too,” Caleb replies, waiting as he hears his father pass the phone back to his mother.

“So, you have met two boys?” she says curiously as she returns to the line.

“Yes,” Caleb responds, staring down at his feet as he walks down the winding path through campus. “I, um, I met them a while ago, actually. I was with one of them over break.”

“Ah, I see why you couldn’t come home now,” his mother says slyly, chuckling. Her tone turns more serious, “You sound sad, _Liebling_ , what’s wrong?”

Caleb sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face tiredly. “I don’t know what to do, Mama,” he says hopelessly. “I like them both but I… I don’t know what to do.”

His mother makes a small, contemplative noise.

“Do they make you happy?” she says at last, voice soft and kind.

“They do,” Caleb replies, smiling in spite of everything at the warmth that spreads through his chest under the panic at the thought of them both. 

“And you care for both of them?” 

“Mm, I do. I love them.”

She makes a quiet, affectionate noise. “Oh, _Liebling._ Well, I think that is your answer then,” she says gently. 

Caleb sighs.

“I do not think they would both be okay with that,” he says, thinking of Molly’s stricken face when he’d left Caleb in the theater. “I have been trying that and it is not working. I don’t want to hurt them. I already _have_.”

“Have you talked to them both about it?” she says. 

Caleb grimaces. “Maybe… maybe not as much as I should be,” he mutters. 

“Caleb,” she begins. Caleb can hear the soft clink of dishes in the background. “I know your father and I are still learning about this sort of thing but you know we will support whatever makes you happy, don’t you?”

“I know,” Caleb mumbles. 

“And I know you are not very good at facing things head on like this,” she continues. “You’ve always been a little… in your own head about these sort of things. Don’t make that face, you know it’s true.”

Caleb smooths out the wrinkle in his forehead and unpurses his lips, huffing.

“If you are honest with them both… what’s the worst that could happen?” 

Caleb sighs and rubs his hand over his jaw. He needs to shave badly.

“I guess you are right,” he says, still feeling a little hopeless.

“Of course I am,” she replies, chuckling.

Caleb smiles guiltily. “Sorry for not calling more.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says airily. “Your father and I know you are busy. Have you been doing okay? Frumpkin is still helping?”

“Mm, yeah,” Caleb says.

He hears his father call her name in the background, her reply muffled as she covers the phone with her hand.

“I’ll let you go,” she says when she returns. “Let us know if you need anything, alright?”

“I will,” Caleb says quietly.

“We love you, Caleb.”

Caleb smiles, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter as a wave of homesickness washes over him. “You, too. Goodbye, Mama.”

“Have a good day, _Liebling_. Let me know how things go, _ja_?”

He makes an affirmative noise and she hums affectionately before the call ends. He stares down at his phone for a few seconds before sliding it back in his pocket, feeling marginally better after talking with her, mulling over her suggestion in his head. He wishes it was that easy, that he could simply bring the two of them together and sit them down to beg them to let him try again, take another chance he knows he doesn’t deserve but so badly wants.

_What’s the worst that could happen?_

_You could lose them both. If you break up with one of them you’ll still have the other one._

Caleb doesn’t want to lose either of them though. Keeps coming back to how much it would hurt to say goodbye to either of them after everything he’s been through with them both. He settles on the edge of his bed when he gets home, Frumpkin curling happily in his lap the second he does, and peers around his room. 

The book Caduceus had bought him is sitting on his nightstand next to his keys, the little keychain Molly gave him glinting dully in the light streaming through the curtains. The cheap stuffed cat from the amusement park is still sitting on his dresser alongside the carefully dried flowers he’s collected from the first day he’d kissed Caduceus and the delicate white gardenia he’d given him not long ago. 

They’ve both woven themselves so thoroughly into his life, his belongings, his very heart. He knows that trying to rip those stitches out, trying to untangle them from him, would leave him with open wounds full of loose threads he’s not sure he’d ever be able to fully pull free. He doesn’t want to try to.

What he wants is to fix this. He _needs_ to fix it. It’s his only option. As much as he’d had no alternative plan to both of them agreeing to go along with him in the first place when he’d proposed being in two separate relationships with them, he has no other possible solution now, either. It’s either this or break his own heart and someone else’s in the process.

He takes a deep, centering breath and pulls out his phone to send a message to each of them. Caduceus’ is easier to send, they haven’t been on tenterhooks for days like he has been with Molly. He prays Molly will even acknowledge his message at all.

 **_Caleb_ ** _: could you meet me at the coffee shop on campus at 5?_

 **_Caduceus Clay_ ** _: before tutoring? Sure! :)_

 **_Caleb:_ ** _I’ll see you soon_

 **_Caduceus Clay:_ ** _ <3 _

He stares at the unanswered messages he already sent Molly next, chewing at his bottom lip as he begins to craft a new one.

 **_Caleb_ ** _: I know you are upset with me and I do not blame you. I want to fix this. I will do anything to fix it, Molly. If you are willing, will you meet me at the coffee shop at 5 tonight? I love you, Schatz._

He waits for almost ten painfully nervous minutes before his phone vibrates with a response and he almost drops his phone in his haste to read it.

 **_Mollymauk Tealeaf_ ** _: okay, I’ll be there_

Caleb breathes a sigh of relief and sends him a line of hearts before flopping back on his bed. He glances at the clock, realizing he has four hours to compose himself and think of exactly what he’s going to say before he meets with the two of them. He feels a stab of guilt not telling them what he’s planning but he thinks telling Molly would scare him off entirely.

He closes his eyes, running his fingers down Frumpkin’s back and listening to the lull of his purr, and begins slowly piecing together the thoughts tumbling around in his head. 

When he shows up at the coffee shop ten minutes before five, showered and freshly shaven to give himself some semblance of put-togetherness, he gets himself a cup of water—he’s still jittery from all the caffeine he’d had that morning—and takes a seat at a table in the corner where he can see the front door. His fingers twist together nervously in front of him, leg jiggling under the table as he watches the door expectantly.

His heart leaps in his throat when he sees a familiar flash of lavender skin through the front window, straightening up when Molly steps into the shop and peers around. He looks exhausted, only a few pieces of jewelry affixed to his horns and dressed in a simple plain t-shirt and dark jeans. His eyes fall on Caleb and he smiles meekly, shoulders slumped slightly as he makes his way over to him, Caleb smiling encouragingly when he sinks into one of the seats opposite him.

“Hey,” Molly mutters, voice small and timid, anxious in a way that makes Caleb sick with himself for causing it.

“Hey,” Caleb echoes, tentatively reaching for his hand and feeling some of the tension melt from his shoulders when Molly lets him take it. 

“‘M’sorry for freaking out yesterday,” Molly mumbles, looking abashed and not meeting Caleb’s eye, “I knew what this was and I wasn’t…” he sighs, “I agreed to it so I don’t have any right to complain.”

“Molly, you have _every_ right to be upset with me,” Caleb says fervently. “I have been incredibly selfish and it is not fair to either of you.”

Molly’s bottom lip quivers and his eyes brighten with tears.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he whispers shakily.

“ _No_ , Molly, of course not,” Caleb says, tightening his hold on his hand. “I want to fix this. For both of you.”

Molly forehead knits in a faint frown. “Both of us?”

The door to the shop opens and Caleb glances up to see Caduceus step inside. His eyes find Caleb almost immediately and he smiles warmly, the smallest of confused frowns creasing his brow when he spots Molly across from him. Molly turns to follow Caleb’s gaze and he stiffens, pulling his hand back from Caleb and sitting up straight in his seat.

“What’s he doing here?” he says, wary rather than angry as he gives Caleb a sharp, questioning look.

“I want to fix this,” Caleb repeats, reaching for Molly when he makes to stand. “ _Please,_ Molly, give me a chance.”

Molly stares at him for a long moment before relaxing in his chair, sighing quietly.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting all this,” Caduceus says benignly as he takes the empty seat next to Molly. He smiles at Molly, who returns it stiffly, folding his arms protectively across his chest.

“I assume you wanted to talk to us?” Caduceus says in that same calm, steady voice, looking to Caleb with a politely curious expression.

“I did,” Caleb says, nodding and clasping his hands together in front of himself to keep them from shaking. “I am sorry to spring this on both of you but, like I told Molly, I need to fix this. Or at least try. And I believe talking to both of you together and getting everything in the open is the best way to do it.”

Caduceus nods, smiling encouragingly, and Caleb has to stop himself from taking his hand where it’s resting on the table. 

“I realized I have been going about this the wrong way,” he begins, glancing between the two of them. “I am treating you like you are two separate parts of my life and I do not want that to be the case. I never intended for you to feel as if you were in… in competition with each other for my affection, but I think that may be what has happened.”

He sees Molly glance sideways at Caduceus, shifting in his seat, though Caleb thinks he sees his arms relax where they’re wound right across his chest.

“I am afraid I have been woefully poor at communicating with both of you since this started,” Caleb continues. “I will admit this is all new to me but that is not an excuse for letting things lie when I knew… well, I guessed at least… that you were feeling, ah, apprehensive about all of this.” He looks to Molly again. His eyes are fixed on the table but Caleb sees him nod absently. “I should have done this sooner. I should have discussed things more openly. For that I am sorry.”

He wets his lips nervously.

“I am a selfish man,” he smiles self-deprecatingly, “I know this. And I have been unfair to both of you. I have spent the last twenty-four hours trying to figure out what I want, _who I want_ , and I cannot do that. 

“I am a scientist, I like things that can be quantified and explained and put into neat boxes but I cannot do that here and I hate it. I hate how messy and complicated it is but I cannot try and take my feelings for you both and turn them into numbers and compare them to see who I love more. Because I love _both of you._ Perhaps in different ways because _you_ are different, but I cannot begin to simplify that to some twisted scientific calculation. I would not want to.” 

He looks at both of them in turn. Molly’s arms are loose on the table again, his expression guarded but considering. “I love you, Molly. And I love _you_ , Caduceus. And I do not want to imagine what my life would be like without either of you. When I picture my life, I picture it with both of you in it and I do not want that to change. And I know that makes me a selfish, horrible man but it is the truth... and I understand if you despise me for it and never want to speak to me again but that’s... that is how I feel.”

He trails off feebly, slumping down in his seat and looking between them apprehensively. He watches them exchange a glance, Molly nodding minutely and Caduceus shifting forward a few inches towards Caleb.

“What exactly are you asking from us, Caleb?” he says, an almost mild curiosity to his tone like he’s asking Caleb what he’d like to drink rather than what he wants his future to look like. Even now his voice soothes Caleb’s skittering nerves. He takes a deep breath.

“If... _if_ you are both open to the idea,” he begins, choosing each word carefully. “I would like to still be with both of you. But I do not want to continue acting as if your are two different pieces of my life. I want you to know each other and to spend time with both of you. Together. I am not saying you have to be involved romantically with each other, that is entirely up to you both. But you are two of the most important people in my life and I would love at very least for you to be friends.” He wets his lips nervously. “I do understand, though, if this is not what either of you want. I just know I have been pretending like things will simply fall into place on their own because confronting this scares me. Losing you _scares me_. But I cannot keep hurting you because I am a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Caleb,” Caduceus says gently. “You’re human.” He pauses, glancing at Molly, whose lips are pursed in a thoughtful expression. “For the record, I was never against the idea. Well, no, maybe if you’d asked me a month ago I would have been. I wasn’t lying when I said it was hard knowing you were with Molly but I was never upset because you had feelings for him, too. I think it could work. That’s not to say it won’t have its bumps, but I’m willing to give it a try if Molly is.”

Caleb feels such a rush of relief and love for him he feels tears spring to his eyes, exhaling the breath he’s been holding in his lungs. He looks hopefully to Molly, Caduceus turning to give him calm, questioning look.

Molly glances between them, squinting and making a soft, considering noise. He sighs after a few seconds and shrugs.

“What the hell?” he says almost resignedly. “I’ve had weirder threesomes.”

“Mollymauk,” Caduceus says almost admonishingly. Caleb frowns at him curiously at the familiarity in his tone.

“Alright, alright,” Molly says, holding up his hands in surrender and rolling his eyes. He turns to Caleb, a more serious look coming over his features. “I’ll try it, too. Anything is better than what I’ve been feeling. I thought I wasn’t enough for you, Caleb.”

Guilt stabs in Caleb’s chest and he reaches across the table to take Molly’s hands in his own.

“It has nothing to do with you being enough, Molly,” Caleb says earnestly. “I _love_ you.”

“I know,” Molly says hastily. His voice softens, “I know you do. And I know that’s not what you meant for me to think. I should have said something.”

“I should have asked,” Caleb says guiltily. He squeezes Molly’s hands gently, “I do not want you to be hurt anymore. And if this okay with you, I think being completely honest and open about everything is a good start. I never expected to fall in love with both of you but I did and I… I need this to work. I need to at least try if you will let me.”

“Look, Caleb,” Molly begins, glancing at Caduceus. “Caduceus and I talked about this. Maybe not in so many words but...” he looks up at Caduceus imploringly.

“But,” Caduceus continues for him, “we both know we love you, Caleb. And we want you happy as much as you want us happy. So, I think we’re both open to trying this as a way for everyone to get what they want and be, well... happy.”

Molly nods in agreement and Caleb has to blink rapidly to fend off the grateful, relieved tears blurring his vision. It’s still a little thrown by the fact that the two of them have spoken before, but he’s pleased to find out it led them both to the same conclusion. 

He releases one of Molly’s hands so he can grip Caduceus’ instead. He wonders how bizarre it must look to an outsider, him sitting there close to tears gripping their hands like lifelines.

“ _This_ makes me happy,” he says, squeezing their hands firmly. “You both make me happy. I will do anything to ensure you both feel the same.”

“I think this is a good start,” Caduceus says, smiling placidly, Molly nodding beside him.

“It’s going to take me some time,” Molly says quietly. “To adjust. But I _do_ want to try.” He glances at Caduceus. “I don’t know about being with you romantically but... you’re not so bad.” Caduceus chuckles and Molly smiles wryly. “I know this may come as a shock but I’ve never been in a relationship like this before so it might take me a little bit to get used to it.” He pauses. “You were right. I assumed this would all come to a head eventually and you’d pick one of us. I think I’ve always been afraid it would happen.”

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” Caduceus says, patting Molly kindly on the arm. Molly smiles faintly and the last lingering tension wilts out of his posture.

“Maybe we could... try hanging out this weekend?” he says, grimacing a little as he glances between them. He laughs, shaking his head. “Fuck, this is really going to take some getting used to.” He doesn’t look upset though, that lingering melancholy gone from behind his eyes. He looks relieved, squeezing Caleb’s hand and giving him a look of soft affection that makes his stomach squirm happily.

“I’m not looking forward to answering Jester’s questions,” Caduceus says with a far-off sort of grimace. “Or my sister’s.”

Molly pulls a horrified face. “I didn’t think of that.” He sighs, shrugging dismissively. “Ah, well, fuck ‘em.” Caduceus chortles and Molly grins.

“So, what about you, big guy?” he continues, sliding his hand back from Caleb so he can fold his arms over his chest, crossing his legs casually as he leans back and looks up at Caduceus. “What are you into? Besides tea and weed and cute German boys, of course.”

Caduceus chuckles.

“I’ll be right back,” Caleb says, smiling as he pushes himself to his feet, hearing Caduceus’ response of, “Plants, mostly,” followed by Molly’s amused, “Yeah, I gathered as much,” before their conversation is swallowed up by the noise of the shop.

He moves to the back of the short queue, half-watching the two of them chat out of the corner of his eye, heart swelling impossibly large at how happy he feels, how full of love he is for both of them. The hot, stinging knife of guilt has pulled itself from his chest and he knows it will take some time for the wounds all three of them have suffered because of him to fully heal, but he also knows it will be okay since none of them have to deal with it alone.

He orders Molly’s coffee and Caduceus’ tea, drumming his fingers on the counter absently as he waits for the drinks to be finished. He hears a bright, melodic laugh as the cups are handed to him and turns back to see Molly laughing, Caduceus smiling faintly as he watches him with a familiar sort of bemusement Caleb has seen him wear so frequently. He says something Caleb can’t hear and Molly doubles over in his chair, teeth flashing with how wide he’s smiling as he laughs, gripping Caduceus by the arm.

Caleb watches him straighten back up, wiping his eyes and gesturing broadly with his other hand as he says something to Caduceus, who nods and responds with a wide, lazy grin. Caleb can’t stop himself from smiling watching them, pausing with their drinks in hand, feeling so flush with happiness his chest hurts. There’s no voice in the back of his head hissing doubt and insecurity into his brain. He wants this. Wants them. Knows it so strongly he thinks pure conviction has stifled that persistent voice at last.

Molly glances in his direction and catches his eye, grinning and gesturing for him to come to the table, Caduceus following his gaze and smiling warmly in Caleb’s direction. Caleb returns the smile and heads back towards them.

He thinks back to the advice Nott has given him so many weeks ago. _You’re allowed to let yourself be happy._

He is.

And he will be.

-THE END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy okay this'll be a long one folks.
> 
> First of all, thank you so much for those who have stuck with me through this whole thing and those who have consistently provided me with feedback. It's always made me chuckle a little bit seeing the many many comments about Caleb having two hands given I've had this ending in my head since I started this fic. I started writing this back in January and somehow managed to write 160k (plus all the little side fics I wrote in that time) in under five months and I'm still not sure how I did it. I was planning on starting to post my next fic soon but I got 1. distracted by Good Omens and 2. SUPER busy at work so unfortunately I don't have as much of it finished as I hoped. I do still hope to write it and will have some one-shots posting over the next few weeks (including a sort of separate epilogue for this fic I've been knocking around in my head for awhile). 
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who has commented or created AMAZING art for this fic. I hope the ending was worth the wait and that I did these boys justice. 
> 
> As always I can be found on twitter at walkalittleline.
> 
> Thank you again and have a FABULOUS week :)


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